Star Wars Infinities: The Master
by Darth Yoshi
Summary: The galaxy is divided into three and Exar Kunn is ready to make his move...
1. Prologue

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

PROLOGUE

THE GALAXY IS BEING TORN APART BY A THREE FRONT WAR.  THE

GALACTIC EMPIRE, UNDER THE RULE OF DARTH RAVAGE, HAS 

ORDERED WARLORD THRAWN TO REFORM THE IMPERIAL FORCES

INTO AN ELITE FIGHTING FORCE.

THE TARKIN CONFEDERACY HAS MAINTAINED CONTROL OF THE

CORELLIAN SYSTEM, BUT THE PREFECT HAS PLANS TO EXPAND

HIS INFLUENCE TO EVENTUALLY TAKE CONTROL OF IMPERIAL

CENTER. IN HIS PATH, THOUGH, IS THE REBELLION, WHICH HOPES

TO FREE CORELLIA AS WELL AS THE REST OF THE GALAXY FROM 

THE GRIP OF TYRANNY.

MEANWHILE, ON THE PLANET KAMINO, EXAR KUNN, THE ANCIENT

DARK LORD OF THE SITH NOW RESIDING IN THE BODY OF BOBA

FETT, IS READY TO TAKE HIS FIRST STEP TOWARDS BECOMING 

THE MASTER OF THE GALAXY…

The body that once belonged to Boba Fett, but was now the vessel holding the spirit of one of the most hated persons in history, stood at the large viewing window, looking down at what was called the Alpha Lab. The world of Kamino, home of a race generically referred to as Cloners, was dotted with several research stations and cities dedicated to biological sciences. This facility was under the administration of Taun We, a Kamino citizen that was intimately familiar with Boba Fett.

Decades before, Jango Fett, a Mandalorian warrior, was contracted by Count Dooku of the Old Republic to be the progenitor of the clone army of the Republic. Jango had requested, above and beyond his normal pay, to have a single unaltered clone of himself created to raise as his son. That clone was named Boba. Five years prior to this moment of history, Exar Kunn used Sith magic to remove the soul of Boba Fett from the body he now inhabited. Five years ago, Exar Kunn began to breathe life back into his plan.

In the intervening years, he had maintained the ruse of being Boba Fett and had sworn his patrons to secrecy regarding his presence on the ocean world. After thousands of years of imprisonment in the temples on Yavin 4, Exar could ill afford a mistake now. He was vulnerable, living outside the Force, away from that which made him something more than just sentient. Boba Fett was an impressive specimen, his body and mind as perfect as could be expected from a normal human, but it had been his soul that had been weak. 

Exar knew from experience that the spirit was the true measure of a man and while Boba Fett had dreams of becoming something more than he had been, he lacked the intestinal fortitude to make it happen. He had lived in his father's shadow and Jango Fett, if the way the beings around here regarded him were an indication, was nothing less than a god. Of course, Mandalorians were always tenacious in their efforts.

And, he was becoming fully aware of, so was Taun We.

She entered the viewing platform, silently striding in on her long silvery legs. By now Exar had gotten used to the way the native peoples looked with their elongated necks and oddly child-like faces. Their silence disturbed him, but that was the price he paid for no longer being in contact with the Force. Were he in a proper body, he would be able to read the thoughts of any being on the planet. "Greetings Boba Fett," she said and Exar detected something akin to humor in her voice.

"Good morning, Taun We; I trust that the outlook for the day is profitable?" Exar replied, using extra kindness with his words. Above all else, manners were the rule of day on this watery world.

"Today marks the day we unveil our special projects and perhaps usher in a new era of genetic supremacy in the galaxy," Taun We said as she stepped up to stand next to Exar. A long-fingered hand dropped onto his shoulder. "But I did not come here to discuss such matters."

Exar was surprised by her frankness; normally she would spend nearly an hour in small talk before getting to the subject of her visit, which would be infrequent at best. "Please, Taun We, tell me what it is that you have been thinking about. I sense concern in your voice."

She continued to look down, but her grip tightened slightly. Below, technicians of various races and species, though mostly locals, continued to administer to the vats and cylinders containing clones in various stage of development. "I have had occasion to wonder why it is that a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian bounty hunter, would ally himself with a pair of dark Jedi."

"Mutual interests," he replied.

"I was not aware that Mandalorians were interested in forming academies that instructed in the ways of the Sith." Two years before, Exar had secured a section of the complex to serve as his Shadow Academy, where Malakie and Mara had begun to train the Dark Side forces that Exar would require in his conquest of the galaxy. They had very few members, as they could not safely travel far into the Core to look for candidates. "I am afraid that my curiosity has gotten the best of me and I have spent the last few weeks researching the Sith."

Exar did not stop looking down and for the first time in five years, he wondered about the certainty of his future. He was a combat machine, a living engine of destruction, but he wondered if some of the original clones were still here, acting as guards or hired assassins. Could Exar rely on his apprentice to come to his aid? Four thousand years before, Exar's apprentice had turned on him. "An interesting subject, but considering the circumstances around Malakie's parentage, not so unusual."

"Were you aware that some Sith practitioners, their Dark Lords as they were called, were so well-versed in the ways of the Force that they could actually transfer their very life-essence into other bodies?" She waited for comment and when there was none, she continued. "But only the most powerful of Dark Lords could have performed it…someone on the level of perhaps the former Emperor."

Exar suppressed a laugh; Palpatine had been powerful, but he had also been blinded by his own perversions. He concentrated too much on the small details and never on the bigger picture. It had cost him his life. There was no doubt that Darth Ravage, the current Emperor, was a clone of Palpatine, a clone that had most likely been grown to house Palpatine's spirit. Instead of taking advantage of the powerful, youthful body, Palpatine had instead wanted to try using one grown the old-fashioned way.

"In my research, I learned that there were other such powerful Dark Lords throughout history. Names like Naga Sadow, Freedon Nadd and Exar Kunn." She was very quiet for a moment. "Which one are you?"

Exar took a deep breath. "I am Exar Kunn, Dark Lord of the Sith, fallen Jedi and spirit of darkness. Choose any title you wish."

"Then Boba Fett is dead?'

"In the physical sense, yes he is," Exar admitted. There seemed to be no change in the atmosphere between the two of them and he started to relax. "Does that bother you?"

"I was fond of young Boba, but the life of a bounty hunter is a harsh one and I am not surprised that he has met his end already," she said, her tone as neutral as it ever was. "I am amazed that you have lived for four thousand years without a body, Master Kunn. I would enjoy conversing with you about this Force."

"Then you are not angry?" he asked.

She removed her hand from his shoulder and stuck them into the sleeves of her long robe. "It would serve no useful purpose. Though you lied about your identity, the specimens you have procured for us have put us decades ahead in our knowledge of midi-chlorian science. There is still much we do not know, but our relationship has profited both sides." She bowed her head. "I only wish to express concern for your safety."

She invited him to walk with her down to the lab proper, where his new body and the other experiment using DNA taken from Malakie's severed arm would be revealed to him. Neither Malakie nor Mara was permitted to be present. He asked her about her concern for him. 

Two guards, humanoid in appearance, but obviously the products of genetic manipulation, stepped in behind them after the exited the viewing platform. They were silent, allowing their demeanor and large blaster rifles to speak about their purpose. "If you have slain Boba Fett, then I assume you killed his father as well?"

Exar shook his head. "I saw no need for it. He was an old man, past his prime and weak according to the memories of Boba Fett. Jango Fett was no threat to me."

"Ah," Taun We replied. "Then you do not understand the danger you are in."

"Please," he said from behind gritted teeth, "do explain to me my error." He hated the false manners he had to endure; after four thousand years he had learned to just speak his mind.

"Jango Fett was no ordinary bounty hunter. He was the culmination of generations of Mandalorian tactics and strength. He was a man who knew no fear." They stopped in front of the door to the lab and waited as the guards stepped ahead to verify there were no assassins waiting in the small waiting chamber between two sets of doors. The Alpha Lab was a high security area and no chances were taken. 

After getting the all clear, the two of them stepped through the first set of door and waited on a large metal grate. Thousands of small scanners embedded in the walls were now looking over their bodies for biological and artificial contaminants. "He hunted Jedi. It was rumored he even hunted Dark Jedi for the correct wage. He was relentless, caring about nothing and no person." She then paused and held up a single slender finger. "Except his son."

A green light illuminated above them and they entered the lab proper, immediately surrounded by four guards this time. "Why he wanted a son in the manner we provided was beyond our ability to understand. As we understand it, humans enjoy sexual relations and this normally leads to proliferation of the species. Jango Fett was different. He never showed the slightest interest in sex; he instead loved for his mission."

"Perhaps he was not attractive to human females…"

"No; we had several brought in to see if he required their use while he stayed with us. Our goal was to make him as comfortable as possible. Those females assured us he was quite desirable."

Exar sighed, growing tired of the narrative and wanting to see his new body. However, with his secret out, he had to be doubly pleasant to his hosts. He was normally agreeable to long conversation, but today was a special day. "Then perhaps he had other reasons; what does it matter. Perhaps he was interested in same sex relations…"

"Doubtful," Taun We replied, her tone indicating that Exar had made a verbal slight. The Kamino peoples were a race of pleasant and thorough scientists, who saw a natural order to the universe. Same sex relationships were to them an abomination to evolution, counter productive to life. Exar could care less; he enjoyed women just fine. "My point is that Jango Fett was the perfect hunter. He was skilled, well equipped, dedicated and relentless. If you left him alive, then he will come after you. It is not a question of how or why, but of when."

"I'll keep that in mind," Exar replied.

"Forgive my frankness, but I doubt you will. You have lived for forty centuries and no doubt feel you can overcome any obstacle. It is what akins you to the Jedi." They stopped in front of a large cylinder that was filled with a black liquid. He recognized it immediately as the cylinder where his clone body had been growing. He had looked upon it from the viewing platform every day for five years. "But I am sure you already know that."

Exar didn't reply but instead removed his helmet, revealing the dark features of the Fett family line. He got close to the glass and tried to will is vision to pierce the black mass of liquid that surrounded the body. "How will you conduct the transfer?" Taun We asked.

He continued to look at the glass and spoke as if he were lecturing his apprentice. "There are essentially two types of Sith; those who work to become proficient on the Force and those who use the Force to make them proficient in something else. For example, Darth Maul used the Force to become nearly unequaled in combat while I have spent four thousand years studying to use the Force in a more general way. Through my apprentice and his bride, we will conduct an ancient Sith ritual that will exchange the life-forces between this body and the one you have grown for me."

"Then the body of Boba Fett will be in a vegetative state?" Taun We asked.

"Yes, though it is unfortunate. This is a good body, your handiwork is most impressive."

Taun We stepped closer. "Then you will have no use for it?"

Exar turned around and frowned. "I had planned on conducting the ceremony far away from here, but since my secret is out and we have come to terms, I see no reason why you could not have it afterwards." Exar assumed that they would want to study the body to see how well their science had worked over the years. What was the condition of the immunity system? The size of the brain? Hair growth analysis. From what he could tell, these beings lived for nothing more than their science.

Small pumps began to whirl and the liquid level began to drop slowly. Taun We indicated to Exar that he should watch. The Dark Lord turned, excited in a way that he could not recall ever being in previously. This body was a combination of Boba Fett's and Malakie's DNA, with artificially enhanced midi-chlorian levels to bring it up to the level that Exar's body had originally possessed. In this new body he would take command of the Shadow Academy and begin sending his agents throughout the galaxy. Over the course of the next few years, they would encircle the Core Worlds, eliminating political and military adversaries until nothing but a bunch of inept fools were in control of everything.

Then he and Malakie would step up and assume control. It was much the same way Palpatine had taken power, but he had not taken the precaution of eliminating all of his enemies. Instead, Palpatine seemed to have possessed some sort of desired to be looked upon as a hero and he was constantly trying to justify himself and his New Order to his former political rivals and the peoples of the galaxy. Exar would not do that. The sentient races would accept his rule or they would die. It was that simple.

That was the way of the Sith.

The liquid was by now well past the head and what Exar saw disturbed him. Before him was a face composed of both Malakie and Boba Fett, two handsome men, yet combined they looked ugly and perverse. The lips were too big, the nose was too large and the hair was white and wavy. Exar even saw the hint of horns sticking out of the skull, reminiscent of Darth Maul.

The body wasn't much better. The arms were too large and the chest was not developed enough. He counted one set of ribs too many. The hips were wide, like a woman's. The genitals were far too small. "What the hell is this?"

Taun We did not seemed affected by the course language and she stepped up to the glass. "It is obvious that there were some problems with the gene splicing."

"Problems? It's a monster! I can't use that body!" he cried out, slamming a fist against the glass. "Malakie and Mara have a child and it doesn't look anything like this! It's a beautiful child with flowing red hair…"

"There are many benefits to natural reproduction," she explained calmly and Exar wondered if maybe Palpatine hadn't been so foolish after all. "The womb is nature's perfect incubator. We cannot, no matter how far along we come, replace that completely."

"I've waited five years, Taun We," Exar said. "I have not touched the Force for five years. I'd rather be dead," he suddenly admitted. The weight of being cut off from that which he known for so long was finally settling in on his shoulders. His eyes drifted to his blaster.

"Perhaps I can offer another alternative," she said, taking him gently by the arm and leading him over to another set of tubes. The glyphs over the top of them indicated that each one was in a different stage of development and they stopped in front of one marked "adult – young". She nodded to a technician who began the pumps to empty the cylinder out.

"This has been my personal project, though I confess it is not perfect. I have worked based solely on scant records and rumor, but I believe you will be pleased."

Exar watched, but his heart was heavy. Even Dark Lords could come to the realization that their time was done and over. They understood failure as much as the Jedi. He was, despite everything, only human. The liquid dropped much more rapidly and what he saw brought a faint smile to his lips.

He had never met Darth Maul and only knew of him through the Force. That sort of intimate connection went far beyond physical recognition. He would not know the deceased Dark Lord by sight if it had not been for the descriptions given him by Malakie. He looked upon the body in the cylinder and was horrified and full of admiration at the same time.

"The detail of the tattooing is perfect," he said, but he really wasn't sure. The face was a crimson and black design of pure terror, highlighted by a crown of yellow horns on the top of a bald head. 

"We made some minor adjustments, especially to the dental features. His race, whatever it is, is given to severe tooth decay. It may have led to their eventual extinction." She went on to explain that his exact species was not in their genetic database, but it was not surprising. That database had not been updated for centuries because of their isolation from the rest of the galaxy. 

The body was perfect, well muscled and frighteningly fit. "It is beautiful."

She handed over a report on flimsy and he scanned it quickly. "Is this the natural midi-chlorian level?"

"We are unsure of how midi-chlorian levels are affected through ancestry. We assume that the levels are somewhat subdued depending on the parentage. We were able to screen out the mother's genetic material and any gaps we had we replaced with some Jedi stock we had on hand." She handed over another flimsy. "As you can see, this clone is approximately 75% Darth Maul and 25% Anakin Skywalker, or Darth Vader as we believe he was once called."

"This level is…is…incredible!" Exar said, nearly wanting to faint. It was impossible for a single body to contain such power he thought. "Where did you get Skywalker's DNA?"

"We received it from the Emperor when he contracted us to make several clones of himself. He wanted the DNA tested."

"For what?"

Taun We shrugged. "I do not know. My predecessor was in charge of the project and he is now dead. All of the records were given over to the Empire. The original sample had been logged away in our archives until I found it and began using it in m experiments. She waved a hand to the other tubes. "My goal is to create the perfect Jedi…or Sith depending on who I am inclined to work with."

"A most inventive goal," Exar surmised, his hopes rising as the black liquid fell. The galaxy suddenly seemed a whole lot brighter to him and his elevated spirit was almost palatable. "I wonder why it is that you tell me these things?"

"In my estimation, the three-fold civil war raging through the former Empire will eventually grind down to a series of major battles that will decimate entire population, eradicate species and have other unforeseen results." She waved her arm in a gesture meant to encompass not just the lab, but also the whole facility. "You have seen first-hand what benefits cloning can offer. We are not the answer for all problems, but we can aid in eliminating most of them."

"But the Rebellion is like the Old Republic; they hate clones…despise the entire technology," Exar said, turning slowly to face Tuan We. He could not take his eyes off of the hybrid Darth Maul clone without making a supreme effort of will. 

"Though I cannot speak for all of my people or every facility, it is my hope that the Rebellion meets an inglorious end. The Republic betrayed us; we provided them with the greatest army ever and they rewarded us with scorn. They called us monsters." Her eyes seemed to indicate a slight bit of anger, something Exar had never seen. The truth be told, he had not involved himself very much in the day-to-day activities of the residents of Kamino. He never understood their motivations or desires until this moment.

For five years, he had simply believed that they were profiteers, willing to tamper with genetic code in exchange for a fistful of credits. Instead, he now realized that this was a society devoted to science as much as he was devoted to the way of Sith. They were kinsmen in a clan of the excommunicated. They represented groups that did not follow the guidelines of political correctness that refused to abide by rules established by those who were inferior intellectually, morally and socially. "Their ignorance will be their undoing," he assured her. "I can promise you that I have intentions that could bring great prestige and profit to those who support me."

She acknowledged that she had guessed as much. "When I started to believe that I was dealing with a member of the Sith, I asked myself what it was that they would desire most."

"Power does have its benefits, as does sharing it," Exar offered. 

"Which is why I am showing you this body that I have no use for now. I have taken my research as far as I can go and the body we made for you appears to be unsuitable," she said as she stepped over to the glass. She put her fingers onto the glass and her voice took on a whispery tone. "Is it wrong to desire revenge, Master Kunn?"

Exar straightened and walked over to join her, putting his gloved hand on top of hers. "No. Revenge is the tool to order. A balance can only be struck in the Force when wrongs have been righted. You do not achieve equilibrium for a strike to the face with a sorrowful word." He swallowed and strained to remember the ancient texts he had read. Revenge had never been his strong suit, only the quest for power and most Sith writings dealt with that subject in excruciating detail. "Your people have been ostracized by the galaxy for developing knowledge. The Sith were treated much the same way because they wanted to bring order. The galaxy is a chaotic place and it needs strong leadership in order to evolve correctly."

"The weak genes must be weeded out for the strong?" she asked. She seemed so beautiful then and he realized that he was basking in the power that came with pulling someone over to your point of view. Here was an intelligent being who saw her existence as marred by, what she perceived, as the bias of the uneducated liberal ideals of a fallen Republic. She wanted to join in the fight to correct the galaxy but up until now she had no idea where to turn.

"Yes, Taun We, but as good as this body is that you helped to create, I need something that will give me access back to the Force. I need that clone body," he said, turning his head to examine it. The tattoos covered the entirety of the clone's skin and he recognized the design as reminiscent of designs he had seen in tomes the Krath had used 4,000 years before. They had also turned to the Dark Side to help rule the galaxy but they had failed. Exar had that time to fine-tune his plans.

"But, will your apprentice help you? Will his senses not be enflamed when he sees you trying to replace his father?" Taun We asked, moving her hand away from Exar's.

"An interesting point, but I have a solution. I have a student in the Shadow Academy, a Firrerreon named Hethrir. He has shown some true talent in the Dark Side. I will instruct him to perform the ceremony," Exar announced. 

"Is that wise, trusting a mere initiate?"

Exar chuckled. "Do not worry, the Sith prepared for such an eventuality. There is a related ceremony that will allow Hethrir to tap into power he never dreamt of." The Exar leaned in close. "Of course, the end result is that I live while he dies."

"I see," Taun We said, looking down at the ground. Useless death went against her beliefs and Exar wondered if she were in league enough with him that she was willing to betray her ideals to help him. If she did, it indicated that he had one more ally and a useful one at that. 

Finally she looked up. "I will not interfere. Once the process is done, please contact me and we will make arrangements as you see fit."

Exar smiled and took Taun We's hand and lifted it to his lips. She did not understand the gesture but accepted it readily enough. "I promise you, Taun We, that your people's reputation will not only be avenged, but the galaxy will sing praises to your work."

"It is all that I ask; in return I will provide you with whatever you desire. Money. Armies. Fleets. Concubines. I am unfamiliar with your ways or customs, but I will endeavor to satisfy." She made a small bow and then turned, exiting the lab with her guards in tow. 

There were no escorts for Exar and he realized that she had just turned over her entire facility to him. Here was the first step; his first kingdom in what would be his empire. A true Sith empire where the Dark Side was worshipped with all of the hate, jealousy and lust a sentient being could muster.

Exar Kunn smiled then. He thought about all of the things he could accomplish here. It was beyond his wildest dreams and he cursed himself for not realizing what Taun We had wanted from the very beginning. Of course, without the benefit of the Force, he had to rely on normal human gut instinct and he decided that came with experience. He had just spent four thousand years with his spirit trapped in limbo so he could excuse himself for his ignorance.

No longer, though, he told himself. In a few short days, the time it would take to instruct the doomed Hethrir on the intricate procedures involved in life-force transplantation, he would be once again a true Dark Lord of the Sith.

Then he remembered Taun We's warning about Jango Fett and he dismissed it. In the body he was going to have, a simple Mandalorian warrior was going to be no trouble at all. 


	2. Chapter 1

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 1

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Imperial 7th Fleet, under the command of Admiral Palleon, floated in combat formation in a quadrant of space nominally designated as Sector 57T. It was an unremarkable region of vacuum with no planets suitable for life and a dying sun. 

Palleon stood on the bridge of _Chimera_, the flagship of the 7th, looking out at his assembled fleet, the second largest force in the Armed Forces of the New Order, the new name of the military under the direct control of Lord Ravage. How his career had changed over the last five years he mused. Had it really only been that long since the mysterious death of Admiral Zsinj over Dathomir? That had been the event that had brought then-Captain Palleon to the attention of the man who would one day be Warlord of the New Order.

Thrawn.

Five years ago the civil war had started in earnest when a series of outrageous events struck the galaxy. First and foremost, the Emperor had died, leaving his unknown son in charge of an Empire that was fighting off a rebellion against its authority. In the wake of the Emperor's death, Grand Moff Tarkin, the most senior military commander to serve under Emperor Palpatine, had rebelled himself, taking the Death Star and establishing the Tarkin Confederacy in the Corellian System.

Very soon after that, on the planet Tatooine, Darth Deceptra, having changed her name back to Padme Amidala, joined in the declaration of a New Republic. The galaxy was now in even more chaos than during the bad times of the Old Republic, Palleon thought. He remembered those days, when he had been a young man full of ideals and a zest for adventure. He remembered the political infighting of the Senate and the unwillingness of the Jedi to help out the common citizens.

He shook his head; now was not the time for such thoughts. 

The 7th Fleet was currently operating well outside the boundaries of the known galaxy, far beyond anything but the earliest of survey missions. Their exact purpose was to finalize an arrangement between the New Order and a race called the Yhuuzen Vong.

Palleon felt nothing but disgust for the Vong and their culture. They were a society of madmen as far as he was concerned. Better to flush the whole lot of them into some cosmic sewer than meet with them over the negotiating table.

Almost by accident one of their number had been captured infiltrating the ranks of minor functionaries on Imperial Center, the heart of the New Order. The most amazing thing was that they actually used a creature called an _ooglith _something or other to disguise themselves as normal humans! It had been Lord Ravage himself who had captured the creature, proving that the new Emperor was more the warrior than his father had been. Many in the AFNO believed that if Palpatine had still been on the throne, it would have been no time before the Vong had inserted themselves into key political positions.

The Vong had been turned over to the Emperor's Sword, Luke Skywalker, who spent months teaching the helpless Vong a new definition of pain and horror. That was no small accomplishment because all intelligence reports indicated that the Vong enjoyed pain and lived for agony. They practiced self-mutilation and felt that by exposing others to the "glories" of pain, that they could achieve enlightenment. 

Palleon cast a quick glance down into the pit and nodded at the weapons officer. A couple of turbolasers, in the admiral's hu8mble opinion, could do wonders for teaching the savages about enlightenment. It would have been doubly fun to blast their ragtag fleets apart because a turbolaser was technology and the Vong abhorred anything unnatural.

At least he didn't have any of the stinking creatures on his ship, Palleon thought with relief. Skywalker's charge became his servant and was nicknamed Ghastly, which was far too kind a description. Ghastly had told of his race and how they moved from galaxy to galaxy, spreading the will of their dark gods to the more ignorant races. He went on further to state that advance scouting missions of the Vong had encountered Jedi in the past, which many in Imperial Intelligence assumed to be the members of the Jedi Council that had escaped the purges.

The Jedi had intrigued the Vong, for they were an oxymoron to them. The Jedi had confused them, which Palleon doubted was too difficult to achieve given they found poking out their eyes to be pleasurable. On one hand, the Jedi claimed to represent life, but on the other, they relied on technological weapons such as blasters and lightsabers. The Vong high priests determined that it was possible to save the beings of Palleon's universe, but at a heavy price. Many sacrifices would have to be made to appease their gods.

Living sacrifices.

Lord Ravage had considered what to do about the impending threat of the Vong and he and Warlord Thrawn had spent many weeks discussing a plan of action. Palleon had not been in on the meetings, but Thrawn, in one of their many conversations together, had alluded to the context of the discussions. 

"The Vong are a future threat," the blue-skinned alien had said. "Yet not one to take lightly. Their culture shows they are slow and methodical. Their art is painful to look at and painful to create. They enjoy torturing themselves and will deny themselves the pleasure of purifying this galaxy if only to sweeten the eventual end result. They will not be coming for us tomorrow or even next week, but the future of the New Order is at risk."

Palleon had considered the words carefully and wondered what would have happened had they not gotten the advanced notice? What would have happened to the worlds he cherished if they had no idea what was coming? By all accounts and from what little he had seen, Palleon was convinced that the biological weapons of the Vong were at least the equal of the standard Imperial arsenal. Could a divided galaxy stand up to such a threat? The thought of heavy weapons in the hands of madmen made him shiver.

The New Republic would say that the New Order was full of madmen and perhaps at one time that was mostly true. Under Lord Ravage, many of sycophants that had achieved military rank were dismissed and Warlord Thrawn summarily removed those who were not fit to lead. In the battles that followed between the AFNO and everyone from the New Republic to the Corporate Sector, Thrawn time and time again proved that tactics and leadership always outweighed numbers and stupidity.

The days of massed suicide attacks on targets where hundreds of brave Imperial pilots died to achieve worthless goals were over. Good men were no longer regaled to political prison duty. Palleon's former posting at Dathomir was now a luxury vacation spot. 

The fleets were smaller, but they were made up of specialized vessels and commanders now had to think. It was no surprise then to many that the old guard was being phased out in favor of new upstarts like Palleon. He was just the first of a new generation of military leaders that employed intelligence instead of brute force.

No, the New Order was no longer comprised of madmen, but the admiral had to question the wisdom of the Emperor in wanting an alliance with the Vong. But then he had to wonder if his questioning had any bearing on the reality of the situation or on his duty.

The answer, of course, was no and Thrawn was here to put his seal of approval on an arrangement that would ensure the security of the New Order "forever", as the intelligence officers said.

 On the other side of the sun, out of normal viewing range, sat three of the massive worldships that the Vong rode the galaxies in. No doubt it was surrounded by the biologic constructs that were analogous to Imperial warships, while corralskipppers, the fighters of the Vong, buzzed around the larger pieces like flies over dung.

His gut was in a knot. Palleon was completely against any type of appeasement and he had made mention of this no fewer than ten times to Warlord Thrawn. His superior only smiled, his red, pupiless eyes squinting as he did so. He would put a hand on Palleon's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and then move on to the next subject.

The admiral had finally deduced that he was really Thrawn's only true friend, the only person who did not hate him for being an alien or successful and did not want to attach his own career to Thrawn's. Palleon simply liked Thrawn for his intelligence and dedication to the cause of the New Order. It had cost Palleon some friends, but the special kinship he shared with his superior more than made up for it. Palleon often joked to himself that he felt as if he were getting smarter every time he spoke with the Warlord

Once they returned home to Imperial Center, Palleon was confident he would be transferred to Thrawn's 3rd Fleet to be his personal attaché. It was a promotion he would accept gladly.

The turbolift doors at the far end of the bridge opened and someone called for attention on the deck as the Warlord entered. Thrawn immediately ordered them back to work and moved briskly to stand beside Palleon. Behind Thrawn, two black and red armored stormtroopers escorted a military protocol droid who was carrying what looked to be a wilted flower in a cheap pot. "Warlord," Palleon said with a nod. 

Thrawn took a deep breath, something he often did before beginning one of his more ambitious plans. Palleon's curiosity was piqued. "Admiral, order the _Unrepentant_ to launch Combat Patrol Tao," Thrawn ordered.

Palleon had been in the navy far too long to start questioning orders and though he wondered why the Warlord wanted to send out a single pair of TIE Fighters to bulk up the hundreds already screening the fleet, he was disciplined enough not hold his tongue. He told the communications officer to make it so and a few seconds later, a _Victory_-Class star destroyer ahead of them turned slightly to port. There was a brief purple flare from under the vessel and then nothing.

"I've never seen that effect," Palleon muttered. Normally, TIE Fighters gave off a slight blue glow when they first engaged their engines, but it could have been a trick of the light. Nothing more was said for several minutes and Palleon started to notice something odd. "Sir, did you recall the rest of the patrols?"

Thrawn nodded. "Yes, we won't need them."

Palleon leaned in close. "Sir, I strongly advise against such action. There are no official hostilities between the Vong and ourselves, but they have hundreds of their own fighters out beyond the sun. They could be on us in a matter of…"

Thrawn held up a single finger. "You must be patient, Admiral," Thrawn told him. "I wish to demonstrate to you the resolve of our Emperor. I think you will be pleased." Palleon moved back to where he had been and put his hands behind his back. 

The droid came around them, producing the plant for Thrawn, who in turned rubbed the bulb. It reacted to his touch and suddenly came to life. The plant was called a _villip_ and was used a natural communications device by the Vong. With Thrawn's continued caresses, the bulb began to morph into a hideous face. A nightmare stared back at them and Palleon had to look away to keep his stomach from lurching.

The face was that of a female of the Vong race, a minor functionary who had been given the unpleasant task of speaking with the barbarian Warlord. Through her efforts, she hoped to regain some measure of honor Palleon assumed. By the scars on her face, the missing eyes and torn lips, it appeared she had worked hard to try and gain acceptance to the gods she had somehow disgraced. He could not help but wonder what it was she could have done to warrant such a need for penance.

Over the course of the last few months, the female had learned to get a grasp of standard Basic. When she spoke, it was heavily accented and in a voice that sounded like pulverized gravel. "Warlord Thrawn," she began. "The Yuuhzen Vong appreciate the sacrifices you have provided us in the past as a testament to your willingness to embrace pain and all of its beauty. It is hoped that your Emperor and your peoples will learn to appreciate the peace that comes with submission…"

"Be quiet," Thrawn said, his voice ice cold. Palleon felt chills running down his spine at the tone. It was the voice of the master of battle, the tactical genius that had so far been able to win any and all engagements he was involved in. It didn't matter if the battlefield was on a desolate planet, inside a meeting room or across a communications channel; Thrawn was always the one in charge.

The female looked aghast. Obviously, having a barbarian speak to you so was very insulting. "How dare you!" she hissed.

"I said to be silent, woman," Thrawn ordered. She did so, her lifeless orbs seeming to smolder in rage. "Your people have done nothing more than execute our prisoners. You saved the Imperial government the time and expense of having to do it themselves. We care nothing for your ridiculous religion or ways."

Drool was now running down the woman's lips and she began screaming in her own native tongue. After several choice words, she switched back to Basic. "Infidel! I will personally chew the skin from your bones."

"Ah, such a strong threat from a weak race," Thrawn commented and Palleon could not help but grin. "Our philosophy is survival of the fittest in the New Order and in that respect, we are very much alike. However, there is one difference."

"And what, pray tell, is that, infidel? Tell me what the difference is between the glorious Vong and the soon-to-be-vanquished humans?" she scolded. A sensor officer called out that several corralskippers were inbound. 

"Your race is self-destructive and will die out eventually. Ask your highest priests and they will tell you that the Vong keep moving, traveling from system to system in the hopes of staving off the entropy that will reduce you to nothingness," Thrawn told her. Then he leaned in close, getting nose to nose (though hers was severely distorted). "The New Order is self-protective and my Lord Ravage will do whatever is necessary to protect order. Quite plainly, that means death for the Yuuzhen Vong."

Pilot serial number XJ-547, a number he had carried with him since the first day he stepped off the hoverbus at the Imperial Pilot Academy (Imperial Center), shifted his neck slightly and felt the bones pop. The tension was released slightly as he made a course adjustment and aligned himself with the big bulbous worldship that his computer had tagged as target #1. 

He caught sight of about fifty skips (as the pilots called the Vong fighters) coming at him and he wondered, just briefly, if his quantum armor could stand up to their combined assault. His answer came immediately as a howling Vong pilot slammed his skip into the Sun Crusher by accident. The armor of the Sun Crusher made it very hard to see in the blackness of space.

The Sun Crusher, the pilot decided as he avoided an enemy ship was a magnificent fighter, the only one of its kind, developed in secret by Grand Moff Tarkin's scientists. The Maw Installation where it had been built had been overrun by the AFNO very soon after the Tarkin Declaration and the weapon had been seized while still a prototype. It was now complete and it was arguably the most powerful weapon in the star fleet. 

If this test run against the Vong was successful, then pilot XJ-547 was confident he would be the person to lead an attack on the Death Star, helping to bring order to the galaxy. He loved that thought and watched as another skip crashed into him, becoming nothing more than debris and atoms. 

Visions of promotions danced in his head as he skillfully brought himself closer to the enemy line. His secondary monitor told him that the 7th Fleet was jumping out. That was part of the plan, though; they would be back for him. He returned his attention back to his flight path, smirking as skips fired plasma cannons at him. Their weapons had zero effect on his armor, armor that was worth more than most worlds in the New Order. More money had been spent on the Sun Crusher project than the pilot cared to imagine, mostly because he never worried about such things. He lived to fly and to fight and in his new wonderful machine, he got to do that.

The waves of skips, seeing that the Imperial fleet was exiting to hyperspace, circled back around to attack the Sun Crusher. The pilot didn't even bother to fire his small laser cannons, preferring to watch as the Vong ran into him in vain suicidal attacks and more often than not, bad flying.

One hundred thousand kilometers out from the worldship, he fired his only torpedo. Several skips broke off their attack to pursue the weapon, but it was simply too fast, had too much of a head start. It raced across the expanse of space and approached the worldship. Dovin basils, scattered on the surface of the worldship, opened gravity distortion wells to deflect the missile, but it was to no avail. Imperial scientists had calculated the exact trajectory of torpedo, inputting information up to the minute from sensors in the Sun Crusher itself and even taking into account the predicted reactions by the Vong. The pilot's target was simply too large to miss. Even a drunken moisture farmer from Tatooine could hit it he told himself.

The torpedo missed the worldship by a good fifty kilometers and continued on towards the dying sun. The pilot imagined that the Vong were having a good laugh at his expense, even as their pilots continued to die trying to dent his armor with either ineffective weapons fire or through the sacrifice of their own lives. Yes, he thought, chuckle and point at the stupid human! He started to laugh as well, thinking about how their faces were about to change from mirth to horror in only a minute or so.

He reached down and pressed a button, darkening his viewscreen and jerked by reflex as a skip raced into the viewport. It exploded in a cascade of orange light and white fragments. The pilot wondered if the clear crystalline-impregnated plasti-steel could withstand such punishment. It held and he breathed a sigh of relief. He reached down to a keyboard and pressed a glyph to bring up the radar track of the torpedo. It was now in the gravity pull of the sun and was accelerating so fast that the radar could not keep up, so that he was in fact only reading where the torpedo had been instead of where it was.

"Boom," the pilot whispered as the torpedo struck the plasma surface of the sun.

The dying star became pure light as it was destroyed. There was no sound, only the light and the pilot was thankful for the polarized lenses of the cockpit and his helmet. Without them, he surely would have been blinded instantly.

The shockwave spread out, its energy pouring off in visible light as photons went free into the reaches of the darkness. Within ten seconds it had enveloped the Vong fleet and reduced it to nothing, returning it to a state of existence from before the universe was created. Skips were consumed so quickly they didn't have time to explode. In a way, it was beautiful and the pilot, not normally philosophical, began to ponder the meaning of life, the birth of the galaxy and other such poignant thoughts.

Then the wave was over the Sun Crusher.

The energy flow was almost spiritual in the way it seemed to just silently envelop everything. There was a glow that seemed to permeate the ship, slip between the atoms of the armor and bathe him in its pureness. Later, after his body was recovered, it would be determined that the coralskipper strike to the view port had caused a micro fracture that had allowed rad after rad of deadly radiation into the cockpit.

It would take Imperial scientists and technician weeks to remove the smell of cooked meat from the inside of the Sun Crusher and even longer to replace all of the defective parts. It didn't matter, though, so long as the ends justified the means.

Palleon looked at the report scrolling across the screen on his desk. Thrawn was in a corner, speaking quietly to his bodyguards, two members of the Crimson Guard. Their red armor contrasted sharply with the white and black of the office, a splotch of blood it seemed. The loss of the pilot weighed heavily on Palleon. 

Thrawn finished speaking and moved back to Palleon's desk. The admiral stood up and Thrawn motioned him to sit while he took a seat in one of the plain chairs that formed a semi-circle in front. "You were not informed by my order. The only persons, besides the scientists involved, that knew about this was the pilot himself."

"Did our lord sanction this action?" Palleon asked, wondering if he was seeing the beginning of yet another coup. He blushed with shame as he realized such thoughts betrayed his friendship with Thrawn. For a moment, he wondered if he possessed the same biases and attitudes as the other less enlightened members of the military. Did he harbor a secret mistrust of his superior?

If the Warlord took offense, he did not show it. Over the years that Thrawn had been in charge of the military he had learned that humans were a distrusting sort, no matter how hard they tried. It was interesting to watch Palleon mentally chastise himself. "Everything has been done according to plans worked out by myself and Lord Ravage," Thrawn answered, his red eyes flashing. "I felt that you might protest the use of a weapon of mass destruction like the Sun Crusher."

Palleon looked away, realizing that his views were still tainting his career. He was one of the few senior officers in the AFNO that believed weapons like the Death Star were simply overkill and served no real purpose. Thrawn shared a similar view, except that he admitted that there were times that powerful weapons could have their uses. "So, because I protest I am kept out of the loop?"

Thrawn paused for a moment. "What would you have said?"

"I would have agreed in this case. The Vong are disgusting. They are worse than Hutts and even more devious." Palleon sat back, seeing the small smirk on his superior's face. It was nice to know that even he could throw a hydrospanner into Thrawn's precise way of looking at the world. 

"Then perhaps I was in error in not seeking your advice, but nevertheless, the decision was made by Lord Ravage," Thrawn replied. He changed the subject. "We are going back to the Core."

"The Sun Crusher is to be used against the Death Star, then?" Palleon asked.

"It was a most fortunate find and a way to end the threat of Tarkin forever," Thrawn said as he stood up. He walked over to a hologram map of the Core Worlds and pointed to Corellia. "The Death Star still sits here and any attempt to dislodge it could result in the destruction of Corellia itself."

Palleon joined him. "Palpatine did not think Corellia was worth saving; why does Lord Ravage?" he wondered aloud.

Thrawn pointed a representation of a space station in the Corellian System. "This is Centerpoint Station. This is part of a system designed to move planets," he revealed. Palleon started to disagree with the idea but Thrawn held up a finger. "You must simply trust what I say. Lord Ravage does not want to take a chance of damaging any of the equipment. It may have future uses."

"Then the Sun Crusher is useless," Palleon announced. Even if they used the craft to punch holes through the thick skin of the Death Star and reduce it to scrap, there was the problem with debris falling on Corellia or even being tossed out of orbit towards the other worlds.

"Not if we get the Death Star to move out of the system to another," Thrawn said.

"And why would Tarkin do that? In the Corellian System he has his fleets and security forces and the shipyards…"

Thrawn only smiled. "We will offer him something even better in exchange. Mon Calamari."


	3. Chapter 2

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 2

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

If anyone were inclined to look up the planet Tatooine in the official Imperial survey before the start of the Galactic Civil War, they would no doubt find an entry detailing a harsh, dry desert world populated by indigenous nomadic beings. There would also be some footnotes regarding humans especially that had made the world their home, far from the reach of any real planetary government.

That had been true for most of the planet's existence. A scant two and a half decades before, the world was under the control of Jabba the Hutt, a gangster and criminal that treated the world and its citizens as his own personal playthings. And why wouldn't he, scholars of great criminals would comment; he was simply too far from the Core to worry about either the Old Republic of the New Order. Jabba had, however, made one fatal mistake: he had allowed slavery to prosper on his world.

Normally, on backwater planets like Tatooine, slavery was considered nothing more than currency. The trading of intelligent beings servitude was the foundation of many criminal groups. Jabba had allowed a young woman and her son to be sold into slavery and kept that way for many years. That woman's name had been Skywalker and her son had grown up to become the Sith Lord Darth Vader. Vader would one day come back to Tatooine, many years after he had been betrayed by the Jedi Knights, and would extract his own personal revenge against the Hutt master of the world.

After that, Vader became the leader of the planet and petitioned for entry into the Republic, all part of Palpatine's plan to bring about the fall of the Jedi. Vader traveled to Coruscant, the center of the Republic and made his formal request and it was there he was reunited with a lost childhood love, Padme Amidala, the former queen of Naboo.

They fell in love and eventually married, but it was a doomed joining. Vader was killed within a year, battling his former master Darth Maul. He left behind a pregnant wife who had been seduced to the Dark Side of the Force and who was unable to deal with the broken heart she carried with her. In response to the tragedy of losing her soul mate, Padme became the new apprentice to the Emperor and took the name of Darth Deceptra.

Deceptra was a person filled with hate at a universe she had felt had denied her the man she loved. She sought ways to fill the void and in doing so, laid her eyes upon a rising hero of the Empire, Baron Soontir Fel. The problem was that Fel was married to a popular actress.

Deceptra had the actress murdered. Problem solved.

Through her own machinations, Deceptra began a flirtation with Fel, much to the chagrin of her son, Luke Skywalker, who served under Fel briefly with the 181st TIE Squadron. The flirtation ended with the death of the Emperor, when Fel found himself drawn into the cause of freeing his home world of Corellia, a job the new Emperor, Lord Ravage, seeming uninterested in doing.

Deceptra, on the other hand, confronted her long-lost daughter, Princess Leia Organa on Tatooine, hoping to bring her over to the Dark Side. Jedi Master Ferrin Durron and his son, the young Jedi Knight Kyp, accompanied Leia. Kyp, it turned out, was a special type of Jedi warrior, trained in the art of combat while fighting the Yuuzhen Vong out side the galaxy. Kyp used his powers to tap into the heart of the Force and separated Padme from her Deceptra persona, while transforming Tatooine at the same time.

The very first New Republic Planetary Survey listed Tatooine as a lush, green world with a thick, heavy atmosphere that made it a tropical paradise. It still orbited the same twin suns, but now had an abundant supply of water, drawn from deep within the planet where it had retreated at the beginning of time. That water helped form oceans and seas. 

When Tatooine defected from the New Order, rule of the planet fell back into the hands of the royal family. The head of that family turned out to be none other than Padme Amidala. Realizing that she had much to answer for, Padme abdicated her responsibilities in favor of her daughter, Leia.

Tatooine, now the official capital of the New Republic, continued in its orbit around the twin stars as several vessels approached the naval blockade around the world. Made up mostly of elements from the former Death Head's Squadron under the control of Darth Deceptra, the New Republic Home Defense Force was considered one of the most powerful navies in the galaxy.

A galaxy that had changed very, very much in the past five years since the start of the Galactic Civil War.

General Xizor (New Republic Intelligence Corps) waited patiently as the officers, politicians and invited guests made there way to their assigned seats. The senate chamber, which had seating for senators from not only the New Republic worlds, but also from five times that number, was cool, but not so much that the Falleen officer had to worry about his body temperature. Descended from reptiles the way humans claimed ancestry from mammals, the Falleen were a cold and calculating race, every patient once they had set upon a goal.

Xizor's goal had been to become the greatest criminal leader in the galaxy, which he did by running Black Sun for many years until circumstances forced him to look for a new career. In the three-front war of the galaxy, there just wasn't enough profit running a large group of smugglers and scum. On a lark, Xizor decided to accepted Garm Bel Iblis's offer of a commission in the New Republic. As head of Intelligence, Xizor was able to play his former criminal associations to his benefit every day. The criminals were given safe haven in the New Republic so long as they did not commit any offenses against their benefactors, only against the Tarkinists and the Empire.

It was Xizor's job to monitor those criminals as well. Instead of doing it for the investors in Black Sun, the major figures who helped out with manpower, weapons or whatever, Xizor was now managing crime for the politicians.

Not a large difference he mused with a smile.

He watched with cold indifference as the various heads of the military entered and sat down first, as punctual as ever. There was Wedge Antilles, commander of the star fighter arm of the navy, followed by his brother-in-law, Baron Soontir Fel, the head of special operations. Fel was a man that Xizor had to deal with on a regular basis. Xizor handled unsanctioned paramilitary operations; Fel handled the official stuff. Both were wearing the standard uniform of the Free Corellian Renegades.

Admiral Ackbar, Supreme Commander of the New Republic Naval Forces, entered next, followed by an assortment of aides of varying ranks. He exchanged greetings with the other flag officers and took his customary seat at the front of the chamber. Hot on his heels was Garm Bel Iblis, who was busy ranting about something to a junior officer.

Officially, Corellia was not part of the New Republic and therefore, Bel Iblis had no official standing. His Free Corellian Renegades, however, made up fifteen percent of the active New Republic military and merchant fleet. He was a powerful ally worthy of even Xizor's respect. The Falleen allowed himself another mental chuckle as he mused that had the civil war not happened, they would most likely by adversaries. Black Sun had once run extensive operations on Corellia.

Several senators from various New Republic worlds entered after wards without any sort of announcement or ceremony. This briefing was not for public consumption and so all of the pomp and circumstance normally associated with the gathering of so many leaders was dismissed. In accordance with security procedures established by General Cracken, a random senator, in this case the distinguished representative from Ithor was not present for this meeting. In the event of an attack, one political leader had to be secured at a secret location to allow the government to continue.

In that regard, one officer of flag rank, General Cirrus Madine (no relation to the former Alliance officer of the same surname) was at the head of the Outer Defense Fleet, orbiting the moon of Endor on the other side of the galaxy.

The Jedi entered last to some nod and to some shakes of the head. Xizor studied Jedi Master Quinlan Vos as he entered. The senior Jedi and new head of the Jedi Council was polite enough to everyone, but Xizor could sense the tension in the man. His own intelligence files indicated that Vos had once had a brush with the so-called Dark Side of the Force and had become a somewhat renegade Jedi Knight for a brief time. There was a darkness in his eyes that was undeniable and even his twenty years of exile on Dagobah had not been enough to smother the turmoil in his soul.

His companion was Ferrin Durron, Jedi Master and master warrior. The fighting man's Jedi Knight, he was everything that the old holodramas of the previous Republic made Jedi out to be. Ferrin was a no-nonsense man who was not afraid to pull his lightsaber at a moment's notice. As Bel Iblis had put it, Durron was a "bad ass in a pacifist's order".

Notably absent with the Jedi was Padme Amidala, but Xizor had not expected her to be present. No doubt she was under lock and key in the newly established Jedi Tower where she was to remain unless called for. It was part of her custody agreement.

The final person to enter the room was the Chief of State himself, Regis Organa of Alderaan. Regis, a young man by human standards, had been elected to the position after a fiery speech he had given on the anniversary of the formation of the Republic two years before. His predecessor, Anto Unus of Chandrilla, had proven incapable of maintaining the order needed to keep the new government together. On a recall election, Regis had ridden the wave of popularity to high office.

Technically, Leia Organa was the representative of Alderaan as Regis was a minor noble in comparison to her. Regis's father had been Bail Organa's second cousin and was, besides Leia, the only member of the royal family to escape Darth Deceptra's purges.

Another reason why Padme Amidala was not here, Xizor thought. He accepted a nod from the Chief of State as he sat down and shooed away a protocol droid. Xizor, whose voice was said to have something of a soothing effect, cleared his throat. He loved speaking in such a way, a taste for the flamboyant that had served him well in his previous career.

"Senators and representatives, military heroes and Jedi friends, distinguished guests and honored allies and most of al, Master Chief of State, today I am here to give you the first overall intelligence briefing on the state of the galaxy." Xizor waited until a hologram of the known galaxy appeared in the air in front of him. It was a massive star map with clearly defined borders for the various interstellar governments not involved in the civil war including the Corporate Sector and the Hapans.

"As you can see, a certain level of deterrence has been achieved. The past five years have been devastating on the militaries of not only the New Republic, but also for the Tarkinists and the New Order. By our estimation, all three governments have military forces equivalent to roughly twenty percent of what they were at the start of the civil war."

The map rotated slightly, presenting an image of the Corellian System. "Of the three factions, the Tarkin Confederacy has the most secure borders. Though many scattered worlds swear allegiance to Moff Tarkin, their contributions to his overall security, with the exception of Kuat, is minimal. With the Death Star at his command, he is virtually unmovable from the position he now holds."

There were some murmurs from the Corellians. They were not at all satisfied with the way the New Republic had seemed to abandon Corellia and many suspected it was because there had been no official guarantee that the worlds of that system would join up with the New Republic once they were freed. Xizor had to admit that the New Republic was not giving the Corellians, famous for their independent attitudes, much in the way of incentive to fight on the side of "good". "The Death Star itself remains impenetrable. We have made five separate attempts to infiltrate the battle station, going so far as to enlist the aid of the bounty hunter Dengar as an agent, but we were not successful Tarkin, a paranoid man to begin with, has some of the most rigorous security measures in place we have ever seen. "

"Forgive me, General," the senator from Ryloth said, rubbing one of her brain tails, "but what of the rumors that CorSec has been given the task of maintaining Death Star security?"

Xizor smiled and his skin flushed slightly. The lovely senator was one of his current lovers and nothing got his blood boiling more than her acting as of they were nothing more than passing associates. "We have not been able to confirm that. We do know that several CorSec agents were murdered on orders of Kirtin Loor, Tarkin's personal security chief on Corellia, but there is no positive evidence that any Corellians, other than those in the military, are collaborating with the Tarkinists." He paused. "However, it has been five years and we should expect a certain amount of resignation by the people that Tarkin and his people are now the ones in charge."

Someone, most likely Wedge Antilles, threw out some curse words, but a simple glare by Xizor quieted them down. "As of yet, we have found no flaws in the Tarkin defense network. Their largest liability is lack of manpower. Unlike the New Republic and the New Order, the Tarkin Confederacy makes use of conscripts and of those, some 99% of them are human. As such, they have a limited pool of resources to draw from."

The map shifted to show Coruscant, the former capital of the Old Republic, still called Imperial Center by the New Order. "The Armed Forces of the New Order have proven quite resilient over the past five years. Despite heavy losses, they still outnumber us in major capital ships, especially with their shipyards at Mon Calamari and Yaga Minor cranking out as many vessels per month as they can. Again, though, the New Order has a severe liability. Over the past five years, Lord Ravage and Warlord Thrawn have purged the senior officer ranks of Palpatine loyalists. Many of their starship captains are young, and while probably bright and intelligent, lack any real combat experience. Sheer numbers, however, give the New Order a slight advantage over all of us."

"What about super weapons?" the Chief of State asked.

Xizor thumbed through his handwritten notes and pulled out several cards. He had planned to discuss these issues at a later time, but since he was asked…

"As near as we can tell, no new super weapons are being developed by the New Order. Thrawn is notorious for distrusting them…"

"He would use them if he had to," Baron Fel chimed in.

Xizor gave him a sarcastic smile. "If he had any. The second Death Star was destroyed over Endor by Admiral Daala herself and with the exception of Thrawn's own _Super_-Class Star Destroyer, there are no other major weapons." That was only an assumption on the part of his legitimate intelligence sources; his more shady informants were a little more cautious in their estimates. Palpatine had been obsessed with weapons that personified terror and overkill. It was possible that there were some that had been overlooked in the years since the Emperor's demise. "Speculation will only lead to paranoia. I'm of the mind that we can only deal with what we know about." There were several nods from senators, but the Jedi and the military officers remained impassive.

Xizor expected such things and did not let it deter him. He was here to set a precedent, establish the baseline protocols for annual intelligence briefings. He spent the next hour discussing everything from bacta production to advances in laser emitter technology. For the most part, everyone was respectful and let him dispense his information without interruption. The Corellians were as well mannered as could be expected, given their current situation and Xizor bore them no ill will when they were the first to get up and leave when he was finished.

Another half-hour was spent fielding miscellaneous requests for private meetings or even late night rendezvous encounters with some of the female attendees. That was not so odd, Xizor thought to himself; he was, after all, one the most prized bachelor's in the entire New Republic.

"A very fine speech," Quinlan Vos said as he approached. He did not offer his hand, but he rarely did. His time on Dagobah seemed to have made the Jedi Master somewhat skittish of touching other beings.

"Yet, not thorough enough," Ferrin was quick to point out. "You neglected to mention the fact that possible Jedi candidates are being snatched off of planets galaxy wide by a mysterious one-armed man that our sources indicate is a rogue Jedi." Xizor said nothing for a moment. He considered asking who their source was, but he already knew. Talon Karrde, an officer in Cracken's Special Ops section, had identified a possible dark Jedi that had been operating on the fourth moon of Yavin some five years before. That dark Jedi was believed to be responsible for the deaths of Mara Mothma, the adoptive daughter of Mon Mothma and the true daughter by Ferrin's deceased wife. 

That would make her Kyp Durron's older sister and most likely a Jedi herself. Xizor did not like being at a disadvantage but the truth of the matter was he had very little information regarding the strange man known only as Malakia. He had heard that Jango Fett and a Wookie companion had been seeking out such a person, but as to why, Xizor could only speculate. 

The Wookie could be Chewbacca, the former bodyguard of Mara, but the one that was traveling with Fett was reported to be bionically enhanced. As far as Xizor knew, Chewbacca never had any such surgery performed on himself. "Most respectfully, Master Durron," Xizor said with a slight bow of his head, "Jedi matters are just that…Jedi matters. The New Republic does not waste resources chasing down rumors of dark Jedi. We know they exist and we expect you to take care of your own."

Ferrin balled his fists and took a step forward, but Quinlan stopped him with an outstretched arm. "Point well taken, Prince Xizor," the older Jedi replied, using Xizor's honorific. It was meant purely as a compliment since upon joining the New Republic military, Xizor had to abdicate his title. "However, I would think that the New Republic would be concerned if there were an army of dark Jedi out there ready to strike."

"If there was evidence of that, we of course would be," Chief of State Organa said as he walked up. "The simple fact of the matter is that your Jedi have scoured the galaxy, gone behind enemy lines and even outside the system itself, only to find no evidence of any sort of dark academy." Xizor smiled as he the head of the government bolstered his argument.

It wasn't that dark Jedi wouldn't be a threat; it was just that the New Republic was so limited in what it could do. Many of the worlds that had flocked to its banner had nothing more to offer than requests for aid from the richer members of the alliance. Manpower, especially qualified field agents, was hard to come by. It was the very reason Xizor was resorting to hiring mercenaries and bounty hunters.

"Yes, but the Emperor was able to…" Quinlan started. The Chief of State held up a finger for silence.

"Honored Jedi, you must understand: your record speaks for itself. Yes, many bad things have happened to the galaxy but if you remember, it was the arrogance and complacency of the Jedi that put us there to begin with." Regis Organa shook his head. "Bring me proof and I will act, but the days of taking Jedi by their word are long since past. By the Force, you harbor a mass-murderer in your own ranks!"

"Padme Amidala is not part of our order; we simply keep her in our custody until the time comes for her trial before the senate," Quinlan replied. Ferrin cracked his knuckles and muttered something under his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Regis asked with a smile, trying to intimidate Ferrin.

"I said if I ever find your pompous ass alone somewhere I'm going to…"

Quinlan rolled his eyes and pulled Ferrin away, communicating to him through the Force as Regis had a chuckle.

Fifteen minutes later, Xizor and Regis were riding inside the private shuttle of the Chief of State, heading back to Republic City, formerly the desert town of Mos Eisley. Regis drank slowly from a wine glass. "I don't like that Jedi," he announced.

Xizor shrugged. "He is useful, though, and dedicated to the Republic. You know that."

Regis nodded and looked out the window. "He is a fiery one, that's for sure. Between you and I, I think I like our Jedi a little more aggressive." It was quite a statement coming from someone from the pacifistic world of Alderaan. Xizor decided that he needed to get his people working on a more up-to-date profile of his superior. "Now, tell me what I need to know about my own government."

Xizor took a breath before answering. "You are losing the Corellians; they feel that the New Republic has simply left their system to rot. They are all itching to take the fight to Tarkin. If they go, you also lose the Chandrillan Naval Regiment. Bel Iblis has promised them all land on Corellia once Tarkin is removed."

"And if we lose them?"

"The Corellians represent the most experienced officers, merchants and advisors in the New Republic. They also own a considerable chunk of the military. Several key worlds would no longer be garrisoned and could fall prey to privateers or pirates. They would, in turn, seek out the aid of the New Order or the Tarkin Confederacy." Xizor shifted in his seat and briefly glanced out at the passing landscape. "We have to do something to appease them."

"What? Attack the Death Star?" Regis laughed. "All of our military experts, including Wedge Antilles, have proclaimed it impenetrable to attack from the outside. We don't have the star fleet to take it down." He turned to regard Xizor. "And you can't get anyone inside."

"That is not entirely true, sir," Xizor said. His color cooled down to a deep green. "There is a method we have not tried."

Regis leaned forward and finished off his wine. "Go ahead."

"Very well. We send a team in to Corellia itself. We've done that before and we can do it again. We find an officer's family and hold them hostage." It was a plan straight from the handbook of Black Sun.

It also violated 29 New Republic laws. Even suggesting it was considered illegal on some worlds. "And what if the officer refuses? What if he decides not to cooperate?"

"We kill his family and move on the next one."

Regis sat back and shook his head. "Murder? Are you insane? Both of us could go to prison…"

"Then we will have to sit back and wait for the inevitable, sir," Xizor said. He warmed slightly as he watched Regis squirm with the decision. That was the problem with mammals, Xizor thought, too many emotions they could not turn off. "The Corellians will leave, sir."

"But they haven't formally joined the New Republic either!" Regis countered. "We may do all of this and then lose them anyway!"

"But, there will be no Death Star, sir," Xizor pointed out. "Either way, the Republic wins."

"Unless this fails," Regis added.

"Then I guess I better ensure it doesn't fail," was the cold response.

Finally, Regis nodded his head, giving Xizor the permission he needed to proceed. "You better not fail," the Chief of State whispered, suddenly realizing that high office required a high price.

One's soul.


	4. Chapter 3

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 3

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"A credit for your ponderings, Master Durron," Quinlan Vos said as the two master Jedi sat in the back of their private transport. They were heading to the Jedi Temple; a building erected where the pod-racing arena Anakin Skywalker had made famous once stood. Pod racing, by a majority vote of the Tatooine legislature, was now illegal on the former desert world.

"I was thinking about how much the galaxy has changed and how little it has at the same time," the younger man said. Quinlan wondered what old Master Ovos would have thought of his favorite student now? Ferrin certainly was no longer the Padawan who couldn't seem to get it right anymore. Instead, Quinlan realized, Ferrin represented what the Order should have been decades before: peaceful warriors desiring no conflict, but now willing to shy away from it.

Quinlan had spent some time researching the Sith; he supposed all Jedi did in their early training. Who could not resist the curiosity of looking into the philosophical mirror? Many of the texts were banned from use for Padawans, but Quinlan had always been the resourceful student. After he had read the texts, his mind had been filled with questions and it was only after he had touched the Dark Side as a Jedi Knight had he really begun to understand.

The differences between the Jedi and Sith were subtle, not at all blatant, as Master Yoda had tried to teach. In the case of Ferrin and Kyp, the instruction was something akin to "be quick to react, strike true and make your intention clear". It was a paraphrasing of lightsaber training guidelines, in use by the Jedi for thousands of years.

In a tome of the Krath, an ancient Sith order, the phrase had read, "be quick to act, strike true and make your intention clear". The difference was that Jedi reacted to threats while the Sith made them. Over the years, as the Jedi had tried to distance themselves from the Sith, the lessons became mired in political correctness until you could not draw your blade until the threat was in front of you. Quinlan believed that Ferrin and his son represented a return to the ways of the original Jedi. They did not wait for the threat to smack you in the face. "I would have hoped that our sacrifices over the years would have bought us some grace with the people," Ferrin said. "Surely they realize we had no malice in mind in the old days…"

"Is it right to say you will protect the galaxy and then allow yourself to become complacent…arrogant?" Quinlan countered. "I have pondered the very same question for many years," he remarked as he kept his hands inside his robe sleeves. Ferrin could not see how he was grasping his left arm to hold it steady. The trembling was become worse each day and only through the Force was he able to keep the pain at bay. "Master Yoda was perhaps in control of the Jedi Council for far too long. The Council no longer expressed a composite view, but merely acquiescence to Yoda's."

"You talk like he was a criminal," Ferrin said with disgust. Though he had thought Master Yoda harsh, he had always held the Jedi Master in the highest regard.

"No, I merely point out that perhaps the cause of peace and order would have better been served if there had been term limits placed upon Council membership. How would the Council have benefited had we listened to views we did not necessarily agree with?" Quinlan closed his eyes and thought back to the days of the Old Republic. "Would Dooku have joined with Palpatine if we had entertained his views on Jedi and politics? How bad could it have been to have Qui-Gon Jinn on the Council?"

"I was only a Padawan at the time…"

"And if things had not gotten so bad, most likely the same members would be on the Council still!" Quinlan squeezed a little harder; when his blood pressure increased, so did the quaking. He paused for a moment and reached out into the Force to try and get a read on his friend. Simple posturing from politicians was not normally enough to get Ferrin's ire up.

"You have something else on your mind; it is causing a disturbance in the Force," Quinlan told him.

Ferrin pulled on his ceremonial brown robe (his green and gold flight suit was on underneath) and nodded his head. "I have been having visions, but I fear I cannot sort them out."

"The Skywalker legacy?"

Ferrin looked at Quinlan with mild shock. "Have you been having the same visions?"

Quinlan shook his head. "Most likely we both peer into possible futures. There is a taint on the Skywalker line, a sadness passed down from mother to son to daughter."

"Skywalker has a son as well," Ferrin reminded him. "Luke Skywalker is the Dark Apprentice and a very real threat to not only the New Republic, but especially to Leia. I can hear him sometimes, calling out in the Force to her. He's obsessed."

"She is the female version of himself and she stole his mother away in his eyes. His anger and rage will not abate with time. He must come to terms with his feelings," Quinlan lectured.

"Ha! I have a better chance of sleeping with a Hutt brood queen," Ferrin remarked as the speeder reached the outskirts of the city and doubled its speed. 

"My, being outside the galaxy has changed your views…"

Ferrin laughed at the joke, but soon returned to the subject of his visions. "The next Skywalker will be a child of doom. It will bring such great pain with it. It could tear apart the Order."

"Maybe it is meant to," Quinlan told him. "I have thought much about the prophecy that Qui-Gon claimed Anakin Skywalker fulfilled."

"The one who would bring balance to the Force?" Ferrin asked.

"Yes. We always assumed that it was Anakin, but what if he were simply the catalyst? And for that matter, how do we know balance to the Force does not mean getting rid of the Sith and the Jedi all together?" Quinlan let it sink in and Ferrin turned away.

It was simply too horrible to comprehend.

"Moff Daala, the Precentor is dead," an aide announced at the doorway into the meeting room. 

Daala, a woman still young enough to be beautiful and old enough to know how to use it, looked up from the flimsy she was reading and nodded. She then addressed the assembled admirals and generals. "About damn time," she said with a smile.

The men around the table laughed and relaxed, wondering if perhaps Daala's attitude over the past year had all been a ruse to root out those who were not loyal to Tarkin. She dismissed the aide with an order to get her speechwriter to work on her announcement to the Confederacy. As the door slid shut, two white-armored stormtroopers moved to a guarding position in front of it.

"I guess this means you will be the new Prefect?" a general asked, a lustful look in his eyes. She returned the smile, but had no intention of coupling with that pig! She was secure in her position because of her ambition, not because of her sexual abilities. She had been Tarkin's lover and then became his second wife, but she had once harbored real feelings for the man. That had been before the insanity had started to set in.

It was ironic that Tarkin's greatest achievement was to be overshadowed by his own ill health. Not a young man when he rebelled against the Emperor, he had fallen ill not six months after establishing the Tarkin Confederacy. A high fever had done something to his mind and slowly paranoia had set in. It was the only reason why the Death Star had remained in orbit over a rebelling Corellia. Tarkin had simply been too afraid to risk his battle station out of fear of some secret Imperial weapon Palpatine had developed without his knowledge.

"I will be dispensing with the title and will simply be known as Grand Moff Daala," she replied. After all, with Tarkin's treason, the title had been officially banned in the New Order and therefore would be most welcome in the Confederacy.

There were nods around the table and the military men waited for Daala's commands. She relished the moment briefly, realizing that as a woman, she had reached a position that would have been impossible in the New Order. As a young cadet, she had excelled in all of her military studies, reaching the top of her class. Because of the gender of her birth, all of the accolades of her achievements would be nothing. Had it not been for a single twist of fate, she would have ended up a meager supply officer on some backwater world, servicing stormtroopers at night.

The twist of fate had been Tarkin. After her graduation, she had come to his attention for some original work she had done on computer simulations. Tarkin made her his official assistant and then took her as his lover. Under the special covenants granted him by the Emperor, he had promoted her to admiral and placed in charge of the strike force meant to guard the Maw Installation.

Tarkin had discovered the Rebel plot to attack and commandeer the second Death Star being constructed at Endor and sent Daala there to head off the attack. Her victory was sweet indeed; something that always brought a smile to her face when she thought about it.

Under her direction, her fleet of four star destroyers defeated not only a Rebel fleet, but also destroyed the second Death Star, thereby preventing the new Emperor the ability to assault Tarkin's own installation. As soon as the Confederacy was established, Tarkin divorced his first wife and took Daala as his own. His hope had been to produce a worthy heir to his legacy, but sadly, fate intervened and Tarkin slipped into madness even as Daala slipped into command. 

Over the past five years, she had selectively gotten rid of any potential rivals by using her deteriorating husband to order their execution. She would not grieve, however; the man she had loved had long since gone she reminded herself and all that died today was a useless shell.

Her private aide, a young officer with sparkling eyes leaned next to her and whispered something. Daala nodded and instructed him to turn on the map of the galaxy. "Captain Katarn had brought us some very intriguing information that was originally presented to me two weeks ago."

The galaxy map rotated and shifted before zooming in on a blue planet. The name of the world, Mon Calamari, was in red letters, indicating that it was a world loyal to the New Order. There were also several other numbers and glyphs that told various details such as suspected garrison strength and other resources. A smaller window opened up as well revealing the familiar shape of a Correllian _Assassin_-Class corvette.

That particular model of vessel had been produced in very high numbers just prior to the start of the civil war and most of them currently remained in the AFNO. Because of the troubles with rebellious factions on Corellia, the Confederacy was not getting the number of ships it desperately needed to maintain a proper defense against the New Order. Only the Death Star saved them from being consumed.

Captain Katarn rubbed at his beard and started to walk around the table. "As all of you are aware, our beloved Prefect was a tactical genius. He secured for us the world of Kuat and the world of Corellia, two planets renown through the galaxy for their shipbuilding expertise. In fact, these are the only two worlds in the Confederacy that we can build capital ships at."

Several naval commanders and admirals nodded and grunted their disapproval. There had actually been many more worlds with smaller shipyards and even ground force training facilities, but the civil war had been particularly bloody towards technology. The navy was starting to suffer, as there were not enough places to refit or repair vessels. "The New Order maintains major shipyards at Yaga Minor and Mon Calamari. They also purchase extensive arms from Seinar, but that groups has moved all of their operations into the Corporate Sector."

"Which has three hundred _Victory_-class star destroyers in their navy," a young admiral pointed out. "They gouge us like roasted swine at a feat, making us give twice the credits for cheap products! Of they did not have that fleet…"

"But they do have their fleet, just as the Hapans have their fleet and the New Republic has fleets," Daala told them in a smooth voice. Her tone was as alluring as her physical presences. "Complaining will not get us anywhere. Please, Captain, go ahead."

Katarn smiled and gave a small bow. "As I was stating, we all know that the New Order maintains a large fleet at Mon Calamari. Ships such as this picket the outer defenses. Our probes monitored this vessel, the _Rotted Corpse_ for two standard months. We were able to monitor their entire patrol during that time."

"So Thrawn has patrols out, so do we," a general chimed in.

"The _Rotted Corpse_ had a 0.00001 deviation from its course. This suggests that the vessel is on autopilot," Katarn stated, ignoring the general. "However, most curiously, the ship never resupplied the entire time it was on patrol."

"So?" the general asked.

The admiral next to him shook his head. "Idiot! A ship that small can only go maybe 45 days without having to stock up on consumables. The crew have to eat, repair part shave to be brought on board and if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they might even rotate out TIE fighter crews."

"So?" the general asked again. Daala made a mental note to have that particular officer shot after the meeting. He had seemed so promising at one time!

Katarn stopped and pointed at the ship's image. "That, general, is a ship being run by either a droid brain or a droid crew."

Before the general could make another comment the admiral next to him answered his question. "It means there is a problem. Is there any sign of the rest of their fleet?"

The map shifted as Katarn pushed a button on the table. The map showed the main shipyards of the planet with several yellow dots. The dots were meant to represent vessels of capital class. "Long range probes show a fleet relative to the size of Thrawn's personal task force."

"Did we send in anything to get a closer look?" another navy man asked.

Katarn nodded. "We equipped a TIE Interceptor with an experimental cloaking device and sent it in. It was able to get a visual identification, but the device later exploded, destroying the Interceptor. The pilot was able to pick out several star destroyers and frigates and he picked up some IFF readings as well." The Identify Friend of Foe signal was standard on all warships in all navies. It gave off the identity of the ship and was standard equipment, though occasionally modified by the various militaries.

Another image appeared. It was an _Imperial_-Class star destroyer in pristine condition. "This is an image of the _Hellion_, a ship that had previously been assigned to the New Order world of Byss. It was reported lost in battle over that planet two years ago. We suspect that what is parked at Mon Calamari is merely the hull."

A list of vessels then scrolled across the screen, ships names along with dates of reported loss of abandonment. It was a long list. "It appears that someone has gone through a lot of trouble to make it look like Mon Calamari is being properly defended."

"Why in the name of the Force would they leave the planet undefended?" someone asked out loud.

"Because Thrawn has been sent into the Unknown Regions to quell some disturbance out there," Daala said. She stood up, watching as the men took in her figure in her form-fitting green uniform. They were her puppets on a string. Only Katarn seemed unaffected. He was too good an officer to let anything distract him. Daala had been keeping an eye on him for quite awhile. "Our spies on Imperial Center have reported that Thrawn has not visited to kneel before Lord Ravage for almost a year. All they know is that Ravage himself wanted the disturbance in the Outer Regions placated immediately. It is not common knowledge, however."

"So, he took his whole fleet?" the young admiral asked, leaning forward. "This could be bad."

Daala shrugged. "It isn't important. What is important is that there is a skeleton fleet at Mon Calamari and we would be fools to not pounce!" She struck the table with her fist to emphasize her point.

The admiral was not convinced. "It's a trap."

Daala laughed. "How? How could it be? Do not tell me you believe the stories that my dear, departed husband liked to regale you with in his meetings? There are no other super weapons out there! Thrawn made the mistake of destroying the Maw Installation instead of capturing it, or else he could have had some weapons…possibly," she said. The installation had been one of Tarkin's private think tanks and many useful weapons were being developed there. Because of her military duties, however, Daala had been unable to protect both the Confederacy and the Installation at the same time. In the end, she had sent a team under the command of Captain Katarn to destroy the installation.

They had found, however, that Thrawn had beaten them there and he had leveled the base. The debris fields indicated that they had simply fired upon it and never had taken the time to inspect their prize. Daala had expected no less from and alien! "With all due respect, my Moff," the admiral started, "it is simply implausible that someone like Thrawn would leave such an important target so lightly defended."

"Unless he had no choice," Captain Katarn countered. "We have no idea what has been going on in the Unknown Regions all of these years, There have been stories of everything from alien invaders to mad Jedi. Maybe even a Republic base of operations."

"That, I most certainly doubt," a voice said from the shadows. Daala had almost forgotten about General Loor, head of Confederacy Covert Operations, the Tarkinist version of Imperial Intelligence. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to the late Tarkin, but Daala had confirmed for herself that the two of them were not related.

Loor had started out as an Imperial representative working with CorSec during the reign of Palpatine and had wisely chosen to throw his lot in with Tarkin and his group when the Empire split. His experience made him the perfect candidate for the position he now held and under Tarkin's influence; he had become a very cold and dangerous man. In another time and place, Loor's hawk-like features and adherence to orders would make him seem like a kiss-up; in the Tarkin Confederacy, it made him a virtual legend. 

Loor stepped forward and brushed some unseen filth from his purple uniform. Purple was the official color of CCO. Daala supposed it made the man look regal and there were times she could almost imagine her dead husband, back in the prime of his life, standing before her. "The Republic has no hidden bases to strike from; they have suffered as much as ourselves in this civil war. All it takes now is for one side to be forced into making a mistake. Thrawn and Ravage have blinked. I agree with our leader, we must strike."

Many of the officers nodded, more out of fear of upsetting the intelligence chief than actual agreement with him. The young admiral, however, still held firm to his ideals. "Everyone has always underestimated Thrawn, from the time he first entered the officer corps until now. This is a trap, I tell you!"

Daala looked to Loor, who merely shrugged. He didn't believe it was a trap and neither did she, but could she really take that chance? "When we leave, we will leave behind the fleet of admiral…"

The admiral smiled and leaned back. "Admiral Rose."

"Of course, forgive me," she said with a smile. That was an officer to keep an eye on for sure. He was sharp and young, very young for an admiral but the name was familiar to her. There was a Rose high up in the leadership of Carida, home of one of the major Imperial Academies. "Admiral Rose will maintain a presence here, just so the Correllian don't see a target of opportunity. General Loor will continue to administer the populace on the ground. Captain Katarn?"

"My Moff!"

"I want you to come up with a plan of attack and coordinate with the other officers." She looked around the table and satisfied that all was going to plan, she blessed them with a large grin. "Today, gentlemen, we begin a new era of human leadership of the galaxy. Woe to those who stand in our way."


	5. Interlude Profile: Darth Maul

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Interlude Profile: Darth Maul

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

In another time and place, he was barely a footnote in the history of the galaxy, but in one of the myriad of universes of _Star Wars Infinities_, Darth Maul became something to be remembered. 

Maul was only a child when Darth Sideous discovered him. From a very early age, the Force-sensitive Iridonian Zabrak demonstrated an aptitude for combat. Maul was a master of several martial arts by the time he reached adulthood and in his heart he held an obsession to destroy the Jedi. As a Dark Lord of the Sith, Maul became the personal weapon of choice in Darth Sideous' mission to control the galaxy. Maul was an operative, student and assassin and he never failed.

Driven to prove that the Sith were more powerful than the Jedi, Maul jumped at the chance to match saber blades with renown Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn when the Jedi and his apprentice escorted Queen Amidala to Naboo just prior to the battle for that planet. Maul was successful in defeating Qui-Gon, which enraged the padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kenobi fought valiantly against Maul, but in the end was no match for the Sith Lord. Obi-Wan attempted to lull Maul into a false sense of security, but Maul was not fooled. With a swipe of his lightsaber, Maul killed Obi-Wan and secured a future for himself.

Months after the Battle for Naboo, Count Dooku, a Jedi Master turned to the Dark Side of the Force, presented before Darth Maul the young boy Anakin Skywalker. Anakin had been discovered on Tatooine by Qui-Gon Jinn and possessed vast Force potential. Qui-Gin had taken Anakin before the Jedi Council, but Yoda was against training the boy. With nobody to claim guardianship of him, Anakin was deposited into an orphanage on Coruscant. The story would have ended there except that Anakin was able to get a message to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, requesting he contact Queen Amidala to plead his case.

Palpatine, secretly Darth Sideous, sent Dooku to get the boy and from there Anakin Skywalker became the apprentice to Darth Maul. For ten years, Anakin trained in the ways of the Sith, eventually becoming a Dark Lord himself. This technically violated the Sith rule of one Dark Master and one Dark Apprentice, but Anakin, now calling himself Darth Vader, and Maul were an unstoppable team and Palpatine decided to adopt a more liberal view of Sith lifestyle.

Maul and Vader successfully infiltrated the headquarters of Jabba the Hutt and kill the crime lord, effectively seizing control of Tatooine. With Count Dooku and Palpatine's aid, Lord Vader presented himself before the Republic senate in order to gain entrance for the desert world. Maul remained behind on Tatooine and sought out the mother of Anakin Skywalker. Young Vader still clung to thoughts of his former life and Maul was convinced that by eliminating the mother and thereby severing the ties that bound him. Maul tracked down Shmi Skywalker and murdered not only her, but her new family as well.

Vader returned to Tatooine and was immediately suspicious of his master when he was informed of his mother's death. Vader had witnessed firsthand the cruelty of Darth Maul when his master had raped and killed the Force-sensitive bounty hunter Aurra Sing. Vader attempted to read his Master's mind and Maul reacted violently. Their relationship was beginning to fray as Vader was gaining power and prominence in the Republic and Maul reasoned that Palpatine was choosing a new Dark Apprentice.

There was an attempt by Maul to reconcile with Vader, on the planet Dathomir, as they hunted Rancors, but Maul finally had to admit that his apprentice was out-growing him. Maul sealed a deal with the Witches of Dathomir for Palpatine and then unknowingly fathered a child, Malakie, with the lead witch Gethzerion.

Maul was eventually given the rank of General in the military of the New Order, but was regaled to the sidelines as Vader, with his young bride Padme Amidala, took center stage and became the stars of the Empire. Maul seethed in a desire to regain his status with Darth Sideous and knew that the only way to do so was to get rid of both Vader and Amidala. Before he could act on his plan, however, he was ordered to the Sith world of Koriban to deal with holdout members of the Jedi Council that had taken refuge there. 

Maul was the first to land on the planet, just in front of a task force led by Vader and Bail Organa, who had been drafted into Palpatine's service. Maul faced off with the Jedi and defeated them, including Mace Windu, the most senior surviving member of the Council. Vader landed on the planet and master and apprentice faced off against each other. Despite being wounded in battle with the Jedi, Maul proved to be the superior combatant. 

Amidala, now a young Sith trainee and Vader's apprentice, traveled to the planet as well and interrupted Maul's death blow to Anakin. In a rage, Maul used the Force to drop a giant statue on Padme. Vader, shocked by the sight of his beloved being crushed, called upon the Force and became a conduit of pure energy. The build-up of power destroyed Vader's body, but it also allowed him to claim the life of his master and Darth Maul died with barely a whimper. 


	6. Chapter 4

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 4

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Slowly Leia opened her eyes and allowed her brain the time it needed to adjust to her surroundings. The overhead pipes, painted white with a fine layer of grease and grime above her told her that she was indeed on board the _Millennium Falcon_. The soft throbbing of the hyperdrive had allowed her to sleep soundly; that and the passionate sharing of love between her and Corran the night before.

She rolled over to see his face as he snored softly next to her. He had a beautiful and kind face, the face of a good and decent man. And, by far, Corran Horn was the most decent man Leia had ever met, though her Jedi teacher, Kyp Durron, four years her junior, was also respectable in his own way. The three of them were good friends, close friends and though there had been a sort of childish rivalry between Kyp and Corran for Leia's affections, Kyp seemed to have accepted his loss with grace. It was just another sign that sometimes the teacher could become the learner.

She didn't want to wake Corran, but she saw no way of being able to slip out of their bed and into the refresher without doing so. Corran was a very light sleeper most of the time and he especially hated sleeping on the _Falcon_. So, Leia allowed him the luxury of just a few more minutes of rest and she watched, wondering what dreams he was having.

Both of them were refugees from planets that had seen horror. Corellia was in occupied Tarkin space and Corran had not even been able to attend the funeral for his father, whom sources said had been murdered by the order of Tarkin himself. Leia was a princess from a dead royal lineage and the daughter of a disgraced monarch. She had no real home anymore. They were, like most of the Jedi of old, bound to the stars by fate and their paths in life.

In another life, she supposed she and Corran would never be together because she knew deep in her heart that while she loved Corran and cared deeply for him, there was just something about him that didn't quite set well with her. Leia had to admit that she liked a little roughness to her men and Corran was not rough. He was a gentleman. He would make a good husband, for she had already accepted his proposal. He just wouldn't be the man of her dreams.

She smiled, realizing that it was probably a good thing that she still had her naughty little fantasies of being ravaged by a dashing space scoundrel. It kept her young at heart, which was required in her line of work. Being one of only five known Jedi in the galaxy, and a Jedi padawan at that, and the only female, she represented the only chance the Order had of surviving. Any children she and Corran had would carry with them a legacy thousands of years old.

The Jedi would have to rise again if the New Republic was ever going to have a chance. Master Durron, Kyp's father, was quick to point out that at one time, the Jedi worked hard to protect the Old Republic. His goal was to make sure the mistakes of Master Yoda's regime never happened again, though Master Vos was always there to caution them not to rush into anything.

Yes, the last Jedi Council had been blinded by their arrogance, but that was bred out of a belief that their way was absolutely right. That was exactly how Master Durron thought about his philosophy.

Leia wished that her mother could teach them, for she had started to back when she had returned from the Dark Side. The politicians of the New Republic, especially those representing Corellia and Alderaan, however, wanted her put on trial for murder and crimes against the galaxy. They forbade the former Darth Deceptra from doing anything and surely would have executed her on the spot if not for the simple rules of protocol.

Before turning to the Dark Side, Padme Amidala had been the senator from Naboo. As such and because no new senator was ever elected, Padme had the right to a trial by the senate. It would be some time before the entire senate could be gathered on Coruscant for the trial, especially with that world under the control of the Empire.

"You're thinking about your mother again," Corran said. She looked down to see him smiling and she traced the outline of his beard. She wished he'd let it grow out as well as his hair, but he still kept himself military-clean. "Your brow furrows a certain way when you do."

"Can't you feel me in the Force?" she asked.

There was a troubled look on his face for the briefest of moments and then he let it slip away. Of the three of them, Corran was by far the least Force-talented. Reading another person through the Force took a lot of concentration on his part. Corran's talents were more attuned to split-second decisions as opposed to disciplined effort. Corran was a good combatant with the lightsaber, able to easily deflect blaster bolts but he could not levitate an object, considered one of the more basic skills.

It was something that troubled the young Corellian very much, especially whenever he compared his skills to that of Kyp. "I wasn't really trying," he admitted. "Of course, I am an ex-security man. I'm trained to read people's faces."

She accepted the answer without any further comment and slipped out of the bed and walked naked into the refresher. Corran rolled onto his back and stared at the overhead, wondering of asking Leia to marry him had been the right decision. She loved him, he was sure, but he sensed some sort of hesitation on her part. They had been something of a couple for over five years now so surely there weren't too many secrets between them. He didn't understand what it could be except for his own failings.

He always had that nagging fear in the back of his mind, in the places he didn't normally travel to. Like most Corellian Jedi, he had limited Force potential, though history seemed to show that for the most part, Jedi Knights from Corellia tended to be great heroes. But he was far from that, he supposed. If he had been a real hero, he would have argued with his father to allow him to stay on Corellia and maybe then he could have prevented his father's death.

Leia exited the refresher and immediately sensed Corran brooding. If her fiancé were the artistic type, it would be charming, maybe even arousing. Corran, however, was not very artistic and so it was more annoying than anything else. "Your father's death wasn't your fault, dear," she said as she sat down next to him. She reached down to the floor and pulled out her bag. "I need a shower. Why don't you go relieve Kyp at the helm," she said.

Corran nodded and sat up. She gave him a quick kiss and returned to the refresher for a sonic shower.

Halfway into the passage that led to the cockpit, the first direct hit rocked the vessel. "We've got company!" Kyp yelled from the cockpit. Corran grabbed hold of a pipe as the Jedi at the controls threw the _Falcon_ into a spin. I-PO, the protocol droid that Kyp had purchased to serve as his co-pilot, began shouting.

"What wonderful Jedi reflexes you possess, Master Durron," the droid remarked with a very sarcastic tone. "Perhaps you would endeavor to bring us closer to the patrol craft so they may have a better shot at us!"

Corran shook his head as he popped it into the cockpit. I-PO was simply not the typical protocol droid. Kyp had reprogrammed himself to ensure that he was unique. Leia had often remarked about a protocol droid named C-3PO that her "sister" Mara had kept. That droid had been very…prissy. I-PO was anything but. "Not now!" Kyp snapped and the silver-colored droid turned away and dimmed its photoreceptors as he reviewed the weapons panel.

Bail Organa had provided the Millennium Falcon to Ferrin Durron during the outbreak of the Clone Wars. While in exile, Ferrin had modified the ship as best he could with what he could find. The escaping Jedi Knights had taken very little in the form of ship technology with them, as they only thought they would need their vessels to take them out of the known galaxy and later bring them back.

"There are three Z-95 _Headhunter_ fighters approaching from the port side," I-PO stated after checking the threat board. Corran popped his head in. "Ah, finished with your bestial lovemaking, I suppose," the droid said to Corran. The Jedi student blushed.

"An intermediate protocol droid should have some tact," Kyp reminded his co-pilot.

The droid made an electronic squeal that they all knew was a binary curse. "I am a one of a kind prototype, Master Durron…that part of my programming was never completed. Much like the Jedi piloting course you failed to finish." The _Falcon_ spun and suddenly went into a dive along the Z-axis of the galactic plane, narrowly missing a concussion missile.

"Who the hell is firing at us?" Corran said, trying to see the threat board.

I-PO activated the hailing channel. "Unknown fighters, this is the New Republic Jedi Councilor vessel _Millennium Falcon_, carrying three of the most important members of the Republic inner political circle…"

"Why do you always do that?" Kyp asked. "Now they know…"

"This is one of the most distinctive freighters in the galaxy, Master Durron," the droid responded as he tied the _Falcon's_ defenses into his command chair. "No doubt they recognized us for who we are already."

Kyp didn't argue and Corran understood why. I-PO was a pain in the rear, but he always knew the reality of the situation. It wouldn't have mattered if they were Jedi or slavers; pirates in the galaxy were getting bolder day by day as the civil war taxed the security resources of all of the governments. By broadcasting that there were Jedi aboard the ship, I-PO was simply letting the pursuers know that they would have a real fight on their hands.

Corran decided to make himself useful and got up to head the dorsal gun battery, his normal combat station. He nearly ran over top of Leia as she was making for the ladder herself. "How many?" she asked.

"Three so far; Zip-9-5's," he told her, using standard pilot jargon. "Probably pirates," he added as he dropped down the ladder. Inside the bubble for the quad-laser cannons, he quickly strapped in and put on his headset.

"You have the speed of an avian," I-PO remarked as he established the link with Corran and Leia. "If you are as accurate as you are quick to get to your station, then we should all be returned to the Maker very soon."

"Can it, tin-head," Leia said. She started the calibration for the gun sight, which would take thirty seconds. She used the time to look out into the cold vacuum to see if she could spot their enemy. "Any idea who it is?" she asked.

"Records indicate this is an area of high pirate activity," Kyp told them as he put more power to the aft shields. "We are really close to the annexed territories of the CSA."

"Could be Tarkinist's as well," Leia reminded him. She had become a literal encyclopedia of military information over the past five years. She committed every scrap of military intelligence to memory and through several Force exercises, had learned to improve that memory significantly. "Without the benefit of Seinar, they haven't been able to keep their TIE fleets up."

"Zip's are too hard to maintenance on a military scale," Corran added. "Incom is firmly with the New Republic and the only way to get parts for their ships is through the black market."

"My, this is so refreshing, listening to your ramblings about who knows the most about pointless subjects," I-PO groused, "but scanners have picked up an _Imperial_-class star destroyer long range." There was a pause. "It is identified as the independent warship _Pirate's Chance_ under the command of a Devronian named Sallak."

I-PO, in his attempt to strike "fear" into the pilots of the Zips had instead signed their death warrant. "The star destroyer is launching more fighters. Several TIE's and X-Wings," the droid reported.

"We can't take them," Leia announced as her targeting computer came on-line. She tested it by firing a few test shots as one of the fighters passed by. One energy lance grazed the shields of the Zip, but it was otherwise unharmed.

In a straight on fight, the _Falcon_, especially with three Jedi onboard, would be more than a match for three snubfighters. Kyp even considered reaching out with the Force and simply blanking out the minds of the pilots, but pushed the thought aside. When he and his father had first returned to this universe, he had done that very thing, crushing a TIE fighter pilot's mind with the Force, not realizing how great his powers were. The entire experience had left him feeling dirty.

To simply destroy a mind and walk away was the path to the Dark Side. A Jedi warrior faced their foe with honor, allowing them the chance to use their skills as well, or else the balance of the soul could not be maintained.

Kyp wondered if possibly he could just disable their craft or jam their communications, but he couldn't stop piloting the ship to concentrate on that. Though he was a powerful Jedi, he still had many years to go before he would gain the emotional maturity to accomplish multi-tasking feats such as that. One day, though, he would be ready. "We should run," he announced even as Corran scored a disabling hit on a Zip that got too close.

The pilot must have been anxious and Kyp could now pick up the emotions coming from the wounded craft. The pilot had disobeyed orders; instead of waiting for reinforcements, he had come in for glory and had gotten burned.

"We always run!" Leia cursed. "I thought you were a militant Jedi!"

Kyp typed in a new evasion course to put more distance between them and the star destroyer. It would only buy them a few minutes as the TIE fighters were ripping across this distance at more than twice their speed. They must have been TIE Interceptors and the resources Booster had obviously been able to tap to get them impressed Kyp. "It is one thing to stand strong in a battle, it is another to cross into unknown territory and beat your chest!" Kyp lectured her. She was a difficult student and it, ironically, was one of the things that had always made her so attractive to him.

When Corran had proposed marriage to Leia, Kyp had immediately gone to his father and Quinlan Vos and begged to have her removed from him as a padawan learner. Neither Ferrin or Quinlan had learners and Padme, who had originally started training Leia, had always let it be known she wanted to continue doing so. Ferrin had refused the request, stating that Kyp had to put aside his emotions and focus on what was the best thing for all. He was the only Jedi Knight and like it or not, both Leia and Corran looked up to him besides the fact he was five years their junior.

"I want to fight!" she said and Kyp wondered if something else was bothering her. He had noted something of a cooling between her and Corran on this trip, a normal excursion to a planet to investigate rumors of Force-talented children. He wanted to ask her about it but they had not yet adjourned to a private lesson yet.

"And there will be many opportunities for you to display your abilities, Leia, but a Jedi does not beg for violence," he warned her. In the old days, her attitude would have cost her dearly, but Kyp was not only more lenient, he also understood Leia's heritage. She was the daughter of two Sith; she was prone to anger!

A blast rocked the ship. "Aft shields down by 50 percent, my captain," I-PO pointed out. Then the droid decided to add insult to injury. "Your evasion programming is wonderful if the intent was to place us in the path of a volley of concussion missiles."

"Do you think you could do better?" Kyp asked, frustrated as the two undamaged Zips roared past, trying to cut them off. They had to be burning a lot of fuel to keep up with the _Falcon_.

I-PO's fingers, designed mostly for carrying papers or serving refreshments, danced across his modified keyboard. The _Falcon_ suddenly veered to starboard and the outer edge of the shields encountered the shields of one of the fighters. There was a jarring and the more massive _Falcon_ continued on for several kilometers before going into a loop. The Zip on the other hand was cartwheeling across the void.

"You're gonna tear us apart doing that!" Kyp cried out.

"Yes, but I shall do it slower than your method of providing a convenient target, Master Durron," I-PO replied as he pulled up a navigational chart. "We are within a microjump of the Bespin System."

"Dash!" Corran cried out, firing his cannons at the remaining Headhunter. He missed as the fighter maneuvered away.

"Dash," Leia said silently, her thoughts turning to the handsome, though arrogant, former Alliance operative. He had originally taken Corran and Leia to Dagobah to see Quinlan Vos. He had left shortly before the start of the civil war to take a job on Bespin with his former partner, Lando Calrissian.

Leia had always believed, vainly, that it was to be Corran and Dash who would compete over her, since it was obvious that Dash was interested in her. Leia, young and idealistic, had no real time for a man who followed credits towards destiny. Now that she was a little older, those qualities, along with his never-shaven face and corded biceps seemed so much more inviting.

She immediately focused back on the firefight with the remaining fighter lest her thoughts end up floating out on the Force for everyone to read.

"I am sorry but there is no planet nor city named Dash in the Bespin System," I-PO said as he began to ague with the navicomputer.

"Just make for Cloud City, Ippy," Kyp said. He looked out the viewport and could see the reflection of the system's sun glinting off of the solar panels of the approaching TIEs. He could not see the X-Wings or even the massive star destroyer, but he knew they were out there as well.

Bespin was an annexed territory of the Corporate Sector and Booster wouldn't dare cross that boundary line. The CSA possessed, quite possibly, the strongest naval force outside the Hapan Cluster and nobody was quite sure where it was located at any given time. In fact, best estimates indicated that the CSA had a full fleet of over five hundred capital class vessels.

The only reason why they did not go around conquering other worlds was there was no profit in it. The Corporate Sector lived for competition and the various economies of the galaxy provided a rich battleground where victory was measured in credits, not dead soldiers. The fleet was merely a way of keeping outsiders from intruding on their borders.

Two TIE Interceptors raced past, firing their quad lasers directly at the cockpit. The lights dimmed with the impacts and Kyp had no choice but to push with the Force. One of the fighters wobbled and arced away; the other was unaffected but flew right into the path of Leia's guns. It exploded with a flash of light but no sound.

"Three more flights incoming!" Corran called. "Three for me and three for you babe!"

Leia gritted her teeth, not understanding her resentment to Corran but allowing it to guide her actions. "Don't call me babe!" she said as she squeezed the triggers and rotated the gun to follow the Zip. Five shots hit, four of them defeating the starfighter's shields and the last burning away the cockpit.

Then suddenly, the stars stretched and became white lines. Ten seconds later, they returned to normal and a gas planet was several hundred thousand kilometers in front of them. Leia pulled off her headset and tore the front of her jumpsuit open, letting the semi-cool air of the ventilation system refresh her sweaty skin.

Her hands were shaking and she noted that her face was in a sneer. A thousand thoughts went through her mind from hormones to the excitement of battle to a genetic legacy she couldn't control. Her feelings were a jumbled mass and the excitement of battle had not provided the distraction she had hoped for. Instead, her thoughts were on the future and the man she loved.

Or at least thought she loved.

Was that her problem, she wondered? Was she really willing to get married to Corran or was there something else. She had been so responsible, even from a young age, always doing what was expected of her. Here she was, a young woman, marrying a safe, nice guy. He was training to be a Jedi, came from a good Core world and had even been a security agent for a while. He was the galactic version of a boy scout.

Any woman in the galaxy would be happy to marry him. He was handsome, strong, brave and loyal.

Leia continued to sit there, not answering when Corran poked his head up to talk to her. Her fiancé figured she was meditating and in a way he was correct.

She meditated on the future and it was a dark contemplation indeed.


	7. Chapter 5

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 5

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Luke Skywalker, the Dark Apprentice, stepped into the turbolift within the lobby of the castle of Lord Ravage, master of the New Order. He was flanked by two of the Crimson Guard, as he always was whenever he chose to visit Imperial Center. 

As the turbolift lifted, a little too slowly for the Sith Lord, Luke glanced down at the datapad he was carrying and scanned through the security briefing prepared by several of his subordinates. Normally he would have preferred a verbal review of the matters of the day, but time was of the essence today. Daala's announcement of the death of Tarkin and her ascension to the head of the Confederacy was of great import to his master. Lord Ravage hated surprises, was almost paranoid about them. Luke found that strange considering the raw power that the clone of Palpatine had at his command, but it didn't really matter to him.

Five years before, Luke was betrayed when his mother decided to side with his twin sister and turn her back on the way of the Sith. Lord Ravage took Luke in and showed him how to channel the rage and humiliation he felt in order to become a true Dark Lord of the Sith. 

If his master wanted to be paranoid, then so be it. It did nothing to sway Luke's loyalty to him.

The turbolift stopped at the top floor and the doors hissed open, giving Luke access to the most secure place in the galaxy. Assassin droids, Crimson Guardsman, bounty hunters and the Force knew what else was here; ready to give life, limb and circuitry to protect the undisputed master of the Empire. A fresh-faced young ensign in a red uniform met Luke, designating her as a member of Luke's personal staff. "My lord," Fresca Isaard said, bowing her head.

Luke regarded her for a moment, a stunning and beautiful creature, barely out of her teen years. Her mother had been Darth Deceptra's personal assistant but had been executed after Lord Ravage came to power. Fresca worked hard to please her master; almost as hard as Luke did. "You have something to report?" Luke asked, his tone having just a hint of a sinister edge.

She gazed at him with her steel-blue eyes without fear. She had beauty and intellect as well as a high dose of ambition. Were he of the type to marry, she would have been a contender for his affections. Luke had no need to take a wife, however. He refused to make the same mistake his father had. "There has been another murder," she announced.

Luke rubbed his blonde goatee and sighed. Ever since he had taken the position of head of security he had dealt with the Serial Killer of Coruscant as many underground holonet sites proclaimed him. Someone was killing loyal Imperial citizens without regard to their position or relative worth to the New Order. "Same method of murder?" Luke asked as they started to move down the passageway. Two more guards, the personal protectors of Ensign Isaard, fell in with them. Unlike the crimson-garbed bodyguards that accompanied Luke, Fresca was protected by two black armored stormtroopers.

"The body was found dumped in one of the royal gardens," she stated, looking straight ahead. "No apparent cause of death. They simply died."

"I assume the autopsy turned up nothing unusual?" Luke asked.

She shook her head and he caught the scent of her perfume. He casually reached out to her with the Force, probing her mind for her intentions. As he suspected, she was attracted to him but saw him more as a rung on the ladder to real power. He admired her raw emotional honesty. "Some bruising on the wrists and neck, but nothing to indicate that they were caused at the time of the murder."

"Who is looking into it?"

She smiled. "I have assumed the lead on the case, my lord," she said. They stopped in front of the doors to the throne room. Two IG-89 series droids stood at the ready. The Crimson Guardsman with Luke shifted uncomfortably under their mechanical gazes. The members of the Crimson Guard were trained to be as skilled as Jedi in their fighting techniques, but they suffered from sentient reflexes. The IG series assassin droids were renown in the galaxy for their ruthless efficiency and accuracy.

"Excellent," Luke said. He handed over his data pad to her. "I will be expecting a full briefing by the time I am ready to leave for my flagship."

She cocked her head to the side. "I could provide a private briefing…"

Luke chuckled. "Perhaps. You may stop by my private quarters." He turned to the door. "Be prepared for an extended briefing," he added as the doors slid open.

He entered and looked to either side to see two pairs of Crimson Guard as well as a motley assortment of droids from every major military force that had existed since the Clone Wars. The former ruler of the New Order, Emperor Palpatine, had somehow let his security grow lax in his later years. It proved to be costly.

Luke smiled at the irony; he was to have been part of the security net around Palpatine. 

Lord Ravage stepped down from the raised dais where his throne sat and walked briskly over to where Luke stood. Luke immediately went down on one knee in a sign of submission. "My master, I have come as you bid," Luke said to the cold floor.

Ravage's well-shined boots stopped just on the periphery of Luke's vision. "Rise my servant," Ravage told him. Luke did as he was commanded and slowly stood straight. Ravage was clad in the green leather uniform he had taken to wearing. His hair was curly and light in color, much lighter than Luke's sandy-brown top. There seemed to be a new animation to his master's eyes and Luke was glad for it.

Over the past few years, Luke had noted that Lord Ravage's physical appearance would alternate between deathly pale to robust. Luckily, this was one of the days that the emperor of the New Order was full of color and vigor. "You have heard the news of Tarkin?" Ravage asked.

Luke nodded. "Not completely unexpected. He was advanced in his years. I was surprised to see how easily Daala slipped into power, however," Luke admitted. It hadn't been just him either. Several senior intelligence officers had been caught completely off-guard. The hope had been an internal power struggle that would cripple the government of the Confederacy.

It had not happened and now everything was up in the air. "No doubt Daala will seek to solidify her position in the Corellian System. It's well-known that she did not agree with her husband's policy of light-handed tactics with the Corellians." That was, of course, an understatement. Daala had often preached mass executions of the Corellians to get them to tow the line but Tarkin had always been of the mind that select executions were the way to control.

"She is preparing to move the Death Star to the Mon Calamari System," Ravage said off-handedly. Luke slowly turned to his master, wondering how it was he knew that. Luke's own spies had yet to report in to him. Ravage laughed. "Your spies are dead, killed by a most unique Confederate officer."

They continued walking over to an open area that Luke knew was being watched by snipers. He had no choice but to follow but he still reached out with the Force to see of any of them wished him any harm. He was only slightly relieved to discover he was safe from that death trap at least.

If his master detected his student's fears, he did not voice it. "The Death Star is making her way to destiny, just as I foretold. Warlord Thrawn was correct when he surmised that whomever succeeded Tarkin would be searching for a new base of operations."

"Only we did not expect Tarkin to die so soon," Luke informed him. That much was true, but Luke was starting to feel embarrassed that he had not known just how sick Tarkin had been. "Is Thrawn in position? I was not aware he had returned from his mission."

"Our Warlord was no out as far as you might have thought, but he was far enough away that there was a moment of concern." Ravage stopped and brushed some lint from his cape. "But that is not why you are here, my apprentice."

Luke sensed a change in his master's mood. The movement of the Death Star was indeed important, but Luke's field of expertise was not in military matters. While he did control a private fleet, his duties were more aligned to securing the Sith way of life and collecting intelligence. "Have you sensed the change in the Force?" Ravage asked.

Luke nodded. "I cannot describe it, but it is almost as if I am…weaker."

Ravage looked away. "It was once said, in the times when the Dark Lords were plenty, as were the Jedi, that the number of Sith grew so high that it weakened all of their hold on the Force."

Luke knew the history of the Sith. "And so the Dark Lords were reduced to one, bringing a balance to the Force. It gave the remaining Dark Lord the power he needed to ensure the survival of our kind. Such is why there is one master and one apprentice."

"You quote Sith history well, Luke Skywalker, but what does that history teach you?"

He considered it for a moment, not wanting to give a wrong answer. When the realization struck him, his eyes went wide. "Another Dark Lord?" he asked, surprised he had not figured it out. It was so ludicrous to believe, though. There were no more Sith Lords in the galaxy. The only other candidate had been his mother and she had renounced the Dark Side. Luke was sure he would have felt her return to the fold.

"I have tried to contact the spirits of our predecessors but I am unable, for whatever reason," Ravage announced. "Mind you, my apprentice, we are not talking about some dark Jedi, but of true Sith lords." They began to walk again, over to a giant holographic map. "My own spies tell me nothing more than the recurrent rumors of a one-armed Jedi hunting children on the Outer Rim."

Ravage stopped at the map and pointed to a small dot on it. "However, I have information that is not rumor." He smiled before continuing. "This is the world of Bespin in the annexed territories of the Corporate Sector Authority."

Luke said nothing and waited for his master to continue. "Your sister is there right now."

Anger welled up from Luke and permeated the Force around them. It was like a malevolent spirit rising from the grave so great was its intensity. Luke's hatred of his twin sister was well known throughout the elite circles of both the New Order and the Tarkin Confederacy. A substantial bounty had been placed on her head with funds drawn from the personal fortune of Skywalker himself.

"She also has Kyp Durron and Corran Horn accompanying her," Ravage told him. The emperor's eyes flashed. "The information came to me just minutes ago from a free trader named Booster Terrik."

"How reliable is it?" Luke asked, his tone low. For five years he had waited for the opportunity to strike at his sister, to punish her for simply being related to him. She represented the betrayal of the Skywalker name. She was a Jedi.

"Very," Ravage told him and with a wave of his hand he used the Force to press the appropriate glyphs to bring up a window of secondary information. "Terrik thinks that they have gone to Cloud City, the capital of Bespin and a large gas mining facility. It is run by one Lando Calrissian, a man with some minor warrants for smuggling here. It is believed that he is in fact a Republic sympathizer. However, he runs a profitable business and so the CSA overlooks his shady past."

"If the CSA shows him favor, then it will be hard to get in with a battle force," Luke pointed out. His own fleet could immediately jump for Bespin, but it would take several days to get there. Then there was the possibility of engaging an Authority flotilla. 

The Corporate Sector had an impressive fleet and Luke, not an experienced military officer and not vain enough to think he was, did not want to find himself in a small shooting war no matter the prize. "I have made arrangements for a single shuttle to be allowed entry, though it cost me several million credits," Ravage said. He turned to his apprentice and his look became very dark. "We both need Leia for different reasons. If there are other dark lords out there, then we will need all of the dark Jedi we can muster."

"She will not turn," Luke said flatly.

"She will if you can persuade her, open her to the glory of the Dark Side," Ravage whispered. He reached out and put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Your thoughts are open to me, my apprentice. I see the dark things you want to do to her and while I will not stop you, I demand that you do not kill her. Any Jedi you can bring back can be executed later if our efforts fail."

Luke's jaw clenched. "As you will it, my master."

"Obedience, my apprentice, is the first step to power. One cannot wield what they do not respect." Ravage shut the screen down. "All is coming together as I had dreamed. The Death Star will be destroyed over Mon Calamari and very soon I will have two Skywalkers kneeling before me."

Fresca looked in the small mirror at her black eye and Luke, sitting up in the bed watched her face. She touched the bruise, caused by a Force-induced mental strike, and then smiled. Luke could sense she enjoyed the pain, enjoyed the power it gave her. She had taken Luke's hate and lust and lived. It made her stronger.

She would go far he assumed and then she would have to be killed. Until then, she would allow herself to be one of his playthings. "Why is our intel from the Tarkin Confederacy so lax?" he asked as he balanced a hairbrush in the air with the Force.

She didn't turn around but instead wiggled a loosened tooth. "All of our agents were rounded up and executed. Daala has a new star in her ranks, an admiral named Rose."

"Stupid name," Luke remarked. "What do we know about him?"

"Nothing. The rumors are he was some sort of planetary militia commander who gained Tarkin's favor. We doubt it." Luke asked why and she turned to walk over to the bed. She limped slightly from the bruised ankle. "He's far too young to have made any sort of rank so quickly, though if he had been privy to Tarkin's sickness, he could have used it. Certainly he was smart enough. He caught all of our agents and spies within one day, which convinced Daala, apparently, in charge of Corellia while she left."

"Corellia is open?" Luke asked. He couldn't believe that. Daala may not have been able to use it as a base, but by keeping it, she denied the shipyards of the system from the New Republic.

"No, Rose has his fleet there which was confirmed by a long probe TIE flight three hours ago. The Death Star is gone, though." She reached down to her torn uniform and withdrew a small notepad. Fresca was one of the few persons that Luke had ever seen that actually kept hand-written notes on important facts. "Thrawn's fleet will not reach Mon Calamari before Daala, unfortunately, but the Warlord had an alternate plan in such an event. We don't know what that plan is but we assume he has some sort of weapon to take out the Death Star's main gun."

Luke said nothing but considered the possibilities. Thrawn had originally been instructed by Emperor Palpatine to look over the designs of the Death Star to see of there were any fatal flaws. Thrawn had discovered unshielded reactor vents that could be attacked by small fighters and had the problem corrected. Palpatine had announced that the Death Star would then be unstoppable.

It was ironic that what had stopped the massive battle station was the ravings of an old man's mind. Tarkin had simply been too afraid that somewhere out in space was a weapon that Palpatine had developed without his knowledge. In the first year of the civil war, Tarkin's regular military forces had dealt lethal blows to the special forces of the New Order. Daala herself had taken out the second Death Star in the opening shots of the conflict and six months later she successfully destroyed the smaller battle station _Eye of Palpatine_ as a wedding present for Tarkin.

Of the five _Super_-Class star destroyers originally built for the New Order, only one remained, though a new one, the _Ravage_ was currently being built by the Imperial yards at Yaga Minor, but it would not be finished for another two years. Not that those vessels were any good against something like a Death Star. "What could we possibly have that could do that?" Luke asked, not believing that such a thing was possible.

Fresca shrugged her shoulders and suddenly appeared much younger than her disposition allowed. "There is a rumor that Thrawn's personal intelligence cadre secured a weapon from the Maw Installation, something so powerful that it was moved outside the know galaxy for testing."

"Thrawn left to negotiate with the Vong…"

"And we know that your master ordered him to destroy their emissaries," Fresca reminded her lover. "I have seen the preliminary reports on their bio-weapons technology. It is very impressive. To discount the threat the Vong would pose to the New Order at some future date would be a mistake." She reached out and stroked Luke's exposed thigh with red fingernails. "Now is a most precarious time for the New Order. I ma not privy to the Force…"

"True enough," Luke agreed as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"But I can feel something. We are on the verge of a major victory and it is because of not just the efforts of Thrawn, whom I acknowledge as a master tactician, but because of the direction Lord Ravage and yourself have directed us."

Luke considered her words and found that there was some sense to them. Thrawn had successfully maintained the relative strength of the AFNO during the civil war through strategic victories and acceptable defeats. Luke had known about the Maw Installation raid, but the report he had received from Thrawn indicated that there had been nothing of use found there. Had the blue-skinned military man lied to him? If so, did that mean he had a secret agenda like Tarkin had so many years before?

Luke couldn't believe it. If Thrawn had wanted control of the Empire, he could have done so with his loyal forces at the start of the civil war. Luke was already aware that the New Republic had courted Thrawn, trying to lead him away from the New Order, but they had failed. Thrawn was not interested in power, he was interested in pursuing order and that made him much more dangerous to his enemies. There was nothing more potent as a weapon than an idealist.

"See what you can find out about any other secret weapons we might have missed," Luke ordered and then he allowed himself to fall under the spell of Fresca's touch.

Lord Ravage sat down as his personal physician attended him. He said nothing as the man scanned, prodded and poked him for several minutes, relaying information to a medical droid that was standing nearby. After several minutes, the physician dismissed the droid to analyze the data. "Your condition is improved but the overall prognosis is not good."

"I am still dying?" Ravage asked. There was no concern in his voice.

"Your status is unique…I have not been able to find an exact description, much less a treatment for your…"

"Disease?" Ravage finished. "I am a clone, no doubt susceptible to many, many ailments that you naturals are not."

The physician shook his head. "As I explained previously, your basic health is perfect. Genetically, you are the most perfect example of human evolution I have ever encountered. My theory is midi-chlorian mutation."

"It is my connection to the Force, then, to the Dark Side?"

The doctor blew out. "The records of Jedi health care are non-existent and since you murdered all of the Dark Side Adepts…"

Ravage chuckled. In all of the Empire, only this nondescript physician could speak to him so. This was his confidant. "So, I will have to continue the treatments while you seek out a cure."

Blanching, the physician shook his head. "Deviltry if you ask me! I d not know about the Force, but Sith healing techniques are not medicine! I need to consult an expert in Jedi healing."

"What if I provided you with a Force-talented individual to experiment upon?" Ravage put to him. "Perhaps then you would find me a cure?" The doctor did not answer and Ravage laughed for several minutes as a new plan formed in his mind.


	8. Chapter 6

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 6

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Jango Fett felt as if he were getting far too old to be dealing with idiots.

At over sixty standard years of age, he should have been enjoying retirement, taking up loftier pursuits. His intent had been to hand over his Mandalorian armor to his son, Boba, by now and to be living it up on some Corporate Sector world. Since the start of the Galactic Civil War, the CSA had been grabbing Outer Rim worlds so quick that Jango himself had no idea just how large it had gotten. 

Surely, somewhere within the protected territories of the Corporate Sector Authority there was a world where an old bounty hunter could just live out his remaining days in peace.

It was merely a dream, he decided. He had lived most of his life in his armor and he would most likely die in it, the way of the warrior. Besides, he thought, sixty wasn't too old in Wookie years.

As if he had read his partner's thoughts, Chewbacca gave a small roar and tightened his grip on his bowcaster. The Wookie was over two hundred years old and he still had a couple of centuries left in him, so long as he stuck to Jango's plan.

In front of them, with weapons drawn, were Bossk and IG-88, the current top hunters in the Bounty Hunters Guild, an organization outlawed under most governments but allowed to operate under the New Order and New Republic. When Jango had returned from his self-imposed exile a year before, he had been approached about joining the Guild. The addition of the infamous Jango Fett would be a great political boost for the Guild, which had suffered greatly when Prince Xizor disbanded Black Sun.

Jango had refused. He wasn't back to take up his old trade again. Instead, he was violating his first rule: he was here on a personal matter. Revenge was all that occupied Jango Fett's thoughts now; his days as a bounty hunter were far from over. Instead, he was simply a hunter now.

"You ssssshould have joined the Guild when assssked," Bossk said, drool running down his reptilian chin as he eyed Chewbacca. Bossk came from a world in the same system as Chewbacca's own. They were mortal enemies, their races doomed to continue the cycle of useless violence until one was wiped out. "Refussssal issss not an option."

Jango winced behind his helmet, trying to decide if this was the thousandth or ten thousandth time he had heard such a threat. Bossk was trying to up his considerable reputation by taking down Jango, who was considered a renegade operative by the Guild. Unlike other business ventures where competition elicited price warfare, in the bounty hunter trade there was only warfare.

Chewbacca roared again and hesitated from shooting Bossk down right there. IG-88, an assassin droid with sentient programming, had its own blaster pointed at the Wookie. Jango's helmet had already scanned the droid. IG-88 used the blaster for intimidation only; it was already loaded to the joints with its own weaponry.

"Refusal is always an option for me, lizard-breath," Jango said as his thumb upped the setting on his own weapon. He had thought to take Bossk down and later interrogate him, but he sensed that the Transdoshan had nothing of value to give him anyway.

A false lead had led them to Dantooine, a remote and utterly useless planet that the Corporate Sector had ceded to the New Republic six months before. Except for a few mining operations and a single military installation, the world was nothing but wildlife. Jango had caught a rumor that a one-armed Jedi was encamped on the world and of course he had come to investigate.

Jango Fett was hunting Malakie, a possible Sith Lord that was involved in the death of Jango's son, Boba, at the hands of Exar Kunn. Jango had rescued Chewbacca from certain death after the Wookie had faced Malakie and torn his arm off. Malakie returned the favor by cutting off both of Chewbacca's.

Not that you could tell now; the bionic replacements that Fett had ordered were perfect, giving Chewbacca not only a natural look and real feeling again, but also gave him the strength of ten Wookies. He was the perfect partner and enforcer for the game of revenge.

It was no secret in the underworld that Jango was paying top-credit for information surrounding the mysterious Malakie and it looked like Bossk had used that to his advantage to set the trap Jango was now in. By himself, Bossk was no threat, even with Jango's advanced years. The Mandalorian warrior held no doubts about his ability to end the reign of stupidity perpetuated by Bossk.

The problem was the assassin droid. It wasn't just fast, it was tough as well and Jango had no heavy weapons except for the rocket in his signature jetpack. Fett hated droids, especially since he had had to deal with the protocol droid he had found on Yavin 4. The droid, See-Threepio, had once belonged to Malakie's lover, Mara Mothma, but she had left the mechanical being to die on the jungle moon. When Jango and Chewbacca had returned after a year recuperating in the Corporate Sector, they had found him and Chewbacca had claimed him for his own. 

The rumor, according to Chewbacca, was that Darth Vader himself had built Threepio. Jango didn't care; he hated the prissy droid. "Master Fett," Threepio's voice called, breaking the relative silence inside the helmet. 

"What is it?" Jango whispered. 

"I'm afraid that the scans you ordered from _Slave I_ of IG-88 have produced no significant design flaws. A most masterful creation if I do say so myself," the droid replied. High above them in orbit over Dantooine, the protocol droid was sitting inside Fett's ship. The bounty hunter had programmed the droid brain of the vessel to run a scan on anything they encountered. 

"Are we going to continue to stand here and watch each other or are you going to make a move?" Jango finally asked. Bossk started to say something but Jango had enough of the waiting. He had been on the hunt for months and was now fairly upset that he had been distracted. Especially since it was for nothing more than a territorial pissing match.

Jango brought the blaster rifle up and fired. A beam of red coherent light instantly crossed the distance between him and the alien. Bossk's head exploded in a shower of superheated bone and burnt flesh. IG-88 was already moving, his speed impressing Jango. The assassin droid was big and heavy but was agile as Chewbacca.

Of course, Jango thought to himself as he jumped for cover behind a rock, so was the Wookie.

Chewbacca moved quickly, his mechanical claws extended. He moved past IG-88 but not quite quick enough to keep from getting winged in the remaining meat of his left shoulder. The force of the shot spun him and he only got a glancing blow against the assassin droid.

The big Wookie saw the blaster rifle coming towards his face and he roared a challenge. IG-88 did not respond and wasn't fast enough to keep Chewbacca from knocking the rifle away. Two blaster ports opened on the droid's chest and Chewbacca ducked. 

The small repeating blasters continued to fire even as Chewbacca slipped and slid to get out of the way. He had hoped to just yank the droid apart; he had taken down many such constructs during his long life. IG-88 was turning out to be a tougher opponent than he had originally thought, but that was to be expected.

The honorably Wookie had his life-debt with Jango Fett and he would follow the Mandalorian into any hell he wanted to travel to. That, however, did not make Chewbacca a bounty hunter. All of the intrigue that came with the job was beyond him. He was a simple warrior, willing to fight and die for a cause. He even understood the allure of the hunt. 

Hunting for simple profit was somehow wrong to him. Seeing a droid do it, a machine that should not have had any material desires, was frightening.

Jango fired off a few shots at IG-88 and then tossed in a couple of choice curse words as the shots simply bounced off the armored body of the assassin droid. Chewbacca managed to get far enough away to pull the bowcaster off of his shoulder. He never got to pull the trigger as IG-88's accurate fire destroyed the weapon, but failed to get to Chewbacca's body.

The Wookie was now very angry. The bowcaster was the fifth one he had lost since he started working with Fett. One thing was for sure, bounty hunters could shoot! Chewbacca started in another run, waiting for IG-88 to start firing again. He had noted that the assassin droid took a few moments to get a firm lock on a target and as soon as the blasters started firing, Chewbacca leapt into the air straight at his attacker.

IG-88 had not expected such a move. His tactical and prediction circuits had estimated that there was a 97.643% chance that Chewbacca would have broke to the left and that was where he had been firing when the Wookie had jumped. The droid called up his data files, trying to seek some sort of answer in them as to why his predictive model had failed.

Chewbacca was on him immediately and IG-88 received a second surprise. Chewbacca's claws, forged of space-hull grade alloy, cut deep into the armor plating that made up the droid's body. Under normal circumstances, Wookie claws simply could not do such a thing, but Chewbacca was far from a normal member of his species.

Five years before, while working directly for Mon Mothma, Chewbacca had been assigned as the personal bodyguard for the mysterious Mara Mothma. Mara specialized in supplying the Rebellion with whatever they needed and she had been teamed with Talon Karrde, an honorable man that had become infatuated the beautiful human.

On Yavin 4, Talon and Chewbacca had suspected that the strange alien Malakie was up to no good. Chewbacca had sensed the evil about the man; Talon had been jealous of the rapport that Malakie seemed to have with Mara. They tracked Malakie to the ancient Massassi ruins on the jungle moon and there Chewbacca had been defeated by the man he soon came to realize was a Sith.

Unlike most Wookies, Chewbacca kept himself appraised of the galaxy and the Sith were no secret to him. He had wondered why the Jedi had not sensed the man, but after everything that Chewbacca had learned about that failed order; he held no illusions about their deductive or perceptive powers.

The new arms that Jango had provided Chewbacca was perfect, nearly identical to the ones he had been born with except that they were now much more powerful. His natural instinct had him digging into the droid's chest, in search of a heart common sense told him was not there.

His strike was well placed enough that the data cables that fed commands to the repeating blasters were severed and IG-88 had to reroute his signal input through his speech module. Because of this, he was unable to register his disapproval when Chewbacca stepped back and Jango fired his blaster into the hole the Wookie had left.

The assassin droid feel to the ground with a shudder as its main processing module was turned to slag.

Jango holstered his weapon and called Threepio to bring _Slave I_ down. "And then I want you over on Bossk's ship talking to his computers," he ordered, a grim look on his face as he kicked IG-88. Chewbacca gave a slight growl of approval. Jango nodded. "Yep, they most likely have nothing about Malakie, but you never know. That ugly bastard has been trolling the Outer Rim for Jedi babies, only nobody is putting it all together. Too wrapped up in their damned civil war to realize someone is trying to remake the Sith empire."

Chewbacca let loose with some hoots and growls. Even after all of the years between them, Jango still had trouble understanding Chewbacca's language. The main problem was the Wookie had a slight Chandrillan draw to his speech after having spent so many years there. "No, the New Order is not a Sith empire. It's something perverse, but not as. My people dealt with Jedi and Sith alike over the centuries; the tales of the Sith are not pretty. The Empire is cruel, but a Sith empire is just plain hell."

The Wookie responded with another question. "I'm not interested in saving the galaxy. Just revenge. Once I have that, the entire universe can go to hell for all I care. I'm just pointing out how dim-witted everyone has become." He pulled off his helmet and took a deep, unfiltered breath. His hair, now mostly white, was cut short to the skin and was shiny with sweat. "Got ten million little governments popping up everywhere. Every nerf herder with a cause wants to rule. It's worse now then under the Old Republic."

Laughing, Chewbacca began collecting the dropped weapons. "You go ahead and laugh, but mark my words: this galaxy can't handle all of the chaos. It's the reason why people like Palpatine and Ravage eventually gain power."

Chewbacca told him that they always lose it as well. "That's your rebel sympathies talking."

"Bones of a Coruscant whore," Jango said as he read over the information scrolling across the screen. "This is interesting." He sat back and let Chewbacca have a look and the Wookie nodded.

"I'm sorry, Master Fett, but I fail to see the significance of this," Threepio said from the back of the cargo hold. He had all of the data banks from the _Hound's Tooth_, Bossk's ship, transferred over to _Slave I_. Jango was reviewing the information as the ship hurtled through hyperspace. 

"You wouldn't see the significance, goldy," Jango said. "Booster Terrik…you know of him, Chewie?"

Chewbacca gave a long and drawn out explanation and Jango waited for Threepio to translate. "Master Chewbacca says that Terrik is a privateer with a personal vendetta against the New Republic. This information is being broadcast to attract any and all bounty hunters to the Bespin System to collect the bounty offered by Lord Ravage on the head of the Jedi Knights."

"Leia Organa is Mara's sister," Jango said out loud but to himself. Several times in the past he had considered pursuing the Jedi from Alderaan to use as bait to draw Mara out. From Mara, Jango was sure he would get the information he wanted concerning Malakie. 

Chewbacca had told him on several occasions that Leia and Mara had never gotten along and he doubted that they were even remotely related. "Pardon me, Master Fett, but would it be possible to enlist the aid of the Jedi in pursuing your quarry?"

Jango's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I merely assumed that since you were pursuing Sith…"

"Work with the Jedi? Me? A Mandalorian warrior?" Jango started to laugh until he saw Chewbacca nodding his head. He told the Wookie he was insane. "Mandalorians do not work with Jedi."

A growl accompanied the lengthy rebuttal. "If I may paraphrase, sir," Threepio started. "Master Chewbacca does point out that you have been employed by the Sith in the past."

"I was younger then, not as wise as I am now," Jango replied, heading for the ladder up to the cockpit. Once he was in the pilot's seat, he allowed himself the luxury of pondering what his companions had offered. 

There was an old Mandalorian saying that translated roughly "the enemy of my enemy is my friend". Could he, no, would he ally himself with the hated Jedi to pursue a Sith? Always the Sith had been the better to deal with, but only because they had been few in number and had very few ambitions. 

That was different now. The Jedi were few and it appeared the Sith weren't just multiplying, but they were getting ready to plunge the galaxy into a war that threatened to consume it. Jango knew that it was Exar Kunn that had been there and Exar Kunn was going to die. So was Malakie.

His hunter's instinct told him that Mara Mothma was just as guilty, but he could see himself letting her go in exchange for getting the other two. Jango rubbed the silver stubble on his chin and glanced down at the navicomputer. His fingers moved to the keys and he held them in place.

The Jedi! He could not believe he was even thinking of going to them for help. His entire early life had been filled with nothing but hatred for the Jedi and their ways. They had been the mortal enemies of the Mandalorians.

But it was the Sith that had murdered his son, stripping his soul out of his body and tossed it into the wind. His legacy was gone. He was the last Mandalorian warrior so far as he knew and with him they would die. Boba was supposed to carry on but that would not happen now.

The least Jango could do is leave behind his vengeance.

Quickly he typed in the commands that would pull them out of hyperspace after a few more parsecs and then entered in the coordinates for Bespin. Bespin was now part of the Corporate Sector and Jango had full permission to travel through their space. It seemed as if the fates were telling him to go.

Chewbacca popped his head into the cockpit and chuckled. Jango allowed himself a small smile. The Wookie had turned out to be a good companion over the years. Certainly he wasn't a replacement for Boba, but he was a good friend nonetheless. "What's so funny, furball?"

Chewbacca pointed to the navicomputer and started explaining. Jango picked up enough of it to understand that the Wookie was gloating. "Don't you have some Force cages to clean?" the bounty hunter asked.

"It has been over five days," Leia started again for the tenth time. Corran winced and Kyp turned around to head back into the sleeping chamber he was using. "Five days! The Force only knows what they are doing to the _Falcon_!"

Corran sighed and pretended to be fiddling with his lightsaber. "Dear, I'm sure that there is a good reason they have us isolated. After all, we did enter Corporate Sector space without permission in a battered ship. Not to mention Jedi have never been welcome anywhere there are merchants, unless thieves are about as well."

Leia continued to pace like a cat, unable to reconcile herself to relaxing as they waited for Lando Calrissian, the administrator of Cloud City. They had been given permission to land by someone named Lobot, but had been immediately escorted to the rooms they now occupied. Though no threats had been made against them, they did realize they were de facto prisoners.

She was using all of her Force ability to keep her thoughts to herself because she didn't want to upset Corran. Secretly, she was upset because a small part of he had been disappointed that Dash Rendar had not been waiting on the landing platform when they had touched down. In some small romantic section of her mind, she had truly expected it.

That made her even more upset because she didn't know what that actually said about her. She looked to her fiancé and inwardly shuddered at her own self-centeredness. Even their lovemaking the night before had been a lie, her mind far, far away from the act itself.

But more than Corran, she was afraid of Kyp. Their master was very powerful in the Force and he would not be fooled very long by her attempts to hide her thoughts and feelings. What would he say about her betrayal of Corran's feelings, especially after all of the years Kyp had spent pining for her?

But, she reminded herself; it wasn't that she was in love with Dash Rendar…she was in love with Corran. It was just that the thought of a rogue, a scoundrel taking her up in his arms and ravaging her with kisses made her feel so…alive! She prayed silently to the gods of Alderaan, hoping for a cool, calming wind to blow by and remove the heat of passion from her.

She was acting like a schoolgirl and she knew it. "Are you okay, dear?" Corran asked.

Before she could answer, Kyp strolled out, his lightsaber on his belt. "Someone is coming," he said.

The door to the suite opened and two blue-uniformed guards stepped in, their weapons holstered. Behind them, a dark-skinned man in expensive clothing and a million credit smile entered. "Princess Leia, you shine brighter than the sun here in the clouds," Lando Calrissian said, taking her hand and kissing it.

Corran coughed and Lando gave him a huge grin. "Corran! You old son of a gun!" The two exchanged handshakes and warm feelings flowed from both of them. "You've put some muscle on!" Lando commented.

Leia introduced Kyp to Lando. The Baron Administrator shook his head. "You're a lot smaller than I imagined. They say there are whole religions springing up around you because of what you did on Tatooine." Kyp blushed at the news, which was entirely new to them. It was something the young Jedi was not proud of.

"Hell, no," came another voice from the doorway. All looked to see a red-haired man in need of shave leaning in the doorway, one hand on a low-slung blaster. "There is no way that princess could have gotten prettier," Dash said with a wicked grin.

Corran, oblivious to the red hue enveloping Leia's face, ran over to his friend and embraced him. Kyp sensed the change in Leia immediately and looked over at her. She felt his presence in the Force and pushed back with a strength that he had never seen from her.

Kyp watched as she went over to exchange greetings with the mercenary and slowly began to wonder exactly what was going on.


	9. Interlude Profile: Kyp Durron

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Interlude Profile: Kyp Durron

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

When the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn first encountered the boy named Anakin Skywalker, he assumed that he had found the Chosen One. It was Anakin's destiny, the learned Master thought, to bring balance to the Force. Some New Republic historians of the Star Wars Infinities reality, now free to engage in studies concerning the Jedi, question whether or not Qui-Gon Jinn was premature in his pronouncements.

Kyp Durron was born outside the known galaxy to Jedi Knights Ferrin Durron and his wife Lyndia. Both Jedi had escaped from the Jedi purges of the Clone Wars, joining with Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth in establishing a new home outside the boundaries of the Empire. For many years, the Jedi and their families lived in peace and many of the previous taboos of the old Order were dropped and Ferrin and Lyndia were able to marry. Together they planned to start a family.

All of that changed when the outcast Jedi encountered advance scouts for the nomadic Yuhzeen Vong. The Vong made war upon the Jedi and their new society and young Kyp found himself with a lightsaber in his hand from a very early age. The Vong were immune to the Force it seemed except to Kyp who seemed to possess an almost impossible grasp of it. Kyp quickly advanced through not only his Jedi studies, but also became a powerful and well-respected warrior among his people despite his youth.

The odds were stacked against the Jedi, however, and eventually the Vong were able to exterminate them with the exception of Kyp and his father. With no place else to go, Ferrin decided to return to the galaxy of his birth with the _Millennium Falcon_, his personal transport. The hope was that some of the Jedi managed to survive the purges and maybe even beat back the Empire. Then it would be necessary to create a united front against the coming threat of the Vong.

As soon as they exited hyperspace at the Outer Rim, Kyp immediately began to feel his Force abilities multiply in power. It took him several days to learn to tone down his abilities to keep from overtaking the minds of everyone around him. 

Landing on Dagohbah, one of many secret Jedi hideaways, Ferrin and Kyp were surprised to find out that only Quinlan Vos had survived the purges and that he had only begun to train to apprentices, Leia Organa and Corran Horn. Kyp, not having been around very many girls his own age, found himself immediately attracted to the young and beautiful Leia. This caused him to come into conflict with Corran Horn and the two of them would vie for her attention for many years before Corran proposed to her and ended the competition once and for all.

At only fourteen when he reached Dagohbah, Kyp was perhaps the youngest true Jedi Knight ever and he represented a throwback to the older philosophies. Kyp was a warrior, not a pacifist, yet he did not skirt the Dark Side like so many other before him. 

Kyp and his father escorted Leia to Tatooine when she made arrangements to confront her mother, the Dark Lady Darth Deceptra. Deceptra easily defeated Leia in combat and surely would have taken her prisoner if Kyp had not blocked her way. Reaching deep into the Force, Kyp tore the sliver of Kaiburr Crystal from Deceptra's chest, cutting her off from the Force and returning her to being Padme Amidala. Kyp was not finished yet as he went further and further into the living Force, guided along by the spirit of Anakin Skywalker. Kyp's good intentions went directly through the Force and into the planet itself and Tatooine was transformed from desert world to tropical paradise. 

Kyp was then assigned Leia and Corran as his padawan learners and for five years they were involved in a series of adventures together and were dubbed by the New Republic press as the "Young Jedi Knights". Kyp became a hero on many worlds, especially planets such as Ithor and Mon Calamari where nature is respected greatly because of what he had done to Tatooine. There are even rumors that some people look at him as being a Jedi god of some sort.

Now entering manhood, Kyp has a different perspective on life. He is much like his father in that he is quick to jump into a fight to defend the weak, but now he is looking more towards the future. He wants to rebuild the Jedi Knights his mother so adored and there also several more personal issues. Realizing that he will never be with Leia, Kyp can sometimes feel isolated and alone and it has affected his teaching of his padawans.

Whatever the future holds for him, though, many can be assured that Kyp Durron will face it with bravery, skill and confidence.


	10. Chapter 7

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 7

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The assassin was not a man who was very passionate about his work. In fact, Dengar would be hard pressed to name anything that invoked some sort of emotional response in him. He had seen droids that could feel more than he was able and because of that, he often times wondered why he even bothered to go on.

Wasn't survival simply an emotional desire of selfishness? Wasn't it just the mind saying it still had more things to experience and that death would prevent that? If he had no emotions, why did he philosophize when he was alone aboard the _Punishing One_?

He checked the chronometer again and realized he had stayed up all night again but he wasn't angered by it. He simply made a mental note to be more cautious as his body would react differently with sleep deprivation. He stood up and adjusted one of the many bandages that covered his body; his head was wrapped in one underneath the blaster armor helmet he wore.

In his younger days, Dengar had been a sight to behold on Corellia, though he had to confess his memories of his former life were very blurry. He knew that he had been a dashing young man who was rising fast on the swoop bike circuit. He could have been a star had it not been for the intervention of Han Solo, another pilot.

In an illegal race, Solo performed a move that caused Dengar to crash, his skull pierced by debris. Imperial scientists had taken the young man and performed life-saving surgery on him, removing the parts of his brain that contained emotion and turned him into a professional killer.

They had left rage intact, but with Solo dead now for over five years, Dengar really had nobody to direct his anger at. He wondered if the scientists who had performed the operations on him considered what he would do if Solo were no longer a source of contention?

He shrugged, more of a response from memory than as an answer. He still acted human even of he didn't feel it and that was necessary. He was a highly trained assassin, formerly in the employ of the AFNO. Two years before, however, he had decided that the changed New Order represented nothing but chaos and his "programming" dictated that he follow an orderly course through his life.

Now he was an assassin for hire and that paid for the things he needed. He had no desires, not for money, power or even sex. He needed to eat and sleep. Everything else was simply commentary.

The message had been delivered to him through the Corellian underground, via the New Republic, which was very strange. Dengar did not operate in the Republic; Prince Xizor would never stand for it and Dengar was smart enough to realize that the Falleen general still had great influence in the galaxy.

Written in clear flimsy, the message had been very quick to the point:

_Secure high ranking official to gain access to Death Star. Any means may be employed to ensure cooperation. Information to be relayed through the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Payment upon delivery._

The, almost as an afterthought, there was a secondary set of instructions hand written in flowing script at the bottom:

_Leadership would also be pleased if any non-Republic leaders of Corellia were to meet an untimely end_.

Dengar, had he the ability to be so inclined, would have been shocked by the other instructions. It was an assassinate-on-sight request from the New Republic! Not only that, they were giving him free reign to gather intelligence for them any way he saw fit. Most agents avoided the Republic because they would never accept information that had been gained through immoral means.

To the former Imperial, it meant only one thing and that was the war had reached a stalemate. All three sides were now working behind the scenes to see if the balance of power could be tipped anywhere. He briefly considered the possibility that Daala could have been behind the death of Tarkin the month before but considered that he really didn't care.

Dengar foresaw either the Hapans or the Corporate Sector gaining the upper hand in the galactic conflict. Neither had suffered the devastating losses that the other governments had. Not to mention all of the small, independent planetary groupings that were popping up all over the galaxy. 

It all meant work for him and he went over to his gun locker to retrieve his special sniper rifle. The message indicated as well that the New Republic had its eyes on Corellia. Dengar was Corellian by birth and he tried to see if the thought of the New Republic in charge of his home elicited a response. 

All he felt was the beating of his heart. He didn't care at all. 

"You're positive of this information?" Garm Bel Iblis asked. Wedge and Soontir both sat at the table drinking from mugs of Corellian spiced ale. Xizor, out of uniform and in his civilian attire, swirled the glass of Alderaanian wine before taking a sip. He let the liquid sit on his tongue for a second and then he swallowed, relishing the drink.

"It has been confirmed," Xizor said with a nod. 

Bel Iblis considered the information and then the source. He never liked Xizor, did not trust him, but knew him to be invaluable to the Republic. He personally had established the spy network that allowed the former Corellian senator to maintain an eye on his war-ravaged homeworld. Still, Xizor was the former head of Black Sun, a criminal organization, and Bel Iblis was of the mind "once a thief, always a thief".

Xizor had always proven helpful in matters concerning the Corellians, but Bel Iblis thought the Falleen might be pursuing his own agenda as opposed to just being helpful. "Who knows?"

Xizor shrugged. "I had to tell Regis, of course," he replied, his green shade warming a bit from the wine. His roving eye spied a young pilot with her hair in braids across the tavern. "Other than that, just you."

Soontir leaned forward. "And what was the response of our illustrious Chief-of-State?"

"He ordered me not to tell you." The intelligence chief smiled. "I felt that it was detrimental to the New Republic to do so. My responsibility is to the people, not to the Chief-of-State." That was a stretch of the truth and most certainly wouldn't hold up at a court-martial, but the men at the table knew that Xizor had little to fear there. In the worst case, he would simply be reprimanded. In the worst, he would disappear and eventually show up on the payroll of some other government.

Bel Iblis nodded and waited until Xizor excused himself to pursue his intended prey. The Falleen was the most infamous seducer in the Republic. "Comments?"

Wedge spoke up first. "We take our fleets and invade and to hell with the New Republic!"

Soontir laughed. "You don't think Regis won't send Ackbar after us? I don't relish the idea of going up against him and his Mon Calamari loyalists."

"True enough," Bel Iblis agreed. "Ackbar is Supreme Commander of the armed forces and he's been trying to split up our forces among his. To an extent, he's been successful."

"Except for my Special Reactionary Force," Soontir said in a low tone. "It's completely special ops, totally removed from the regular chain of command."

Wedge slowly nodded his head, sipped his ale and kept a wary eye out for potential spies. The tension between the Corellians and the rest of the Republic forces was not getting any weaker with the announcement of the death of Tarkin. Though all within the borders of the New Republic cheered the passing of the tyrant, it didn't address the underlying issue that the Corellians felt betrayed by the government they currently served.

He noted a particular young man looking over in their direction. He wore the uniform of Biggs Darklighter's Wraith Squadron with an underpatch indicating he was from Alderaan. Wedge recognized him as Commander Tycho Celchu. The man had requested several times to be transferred into the Corellian Rogue Squadron. "We can count on the Rogues and a couple of other specialty squadrons to join up, depending on what sort of ships we're talking about."

"Three Vics and an Impstar Trey," Fel replied. The _Victory_-class star destroyers were holdovers from the Old Republic, but still worthwhile capital ships. A third generation _Imperial_-class was very impressive, however. Fel seemed to read his brother-in-law's mind. "We captured it six months ago, part of a probing force to test our defensive line around Ando." 

"Do we control Ando?" Bel Iblis asked sarcastically.

"Not this week," Wedge grumbled. He was voicing the concerns of all Corellians. The New Republic was barely hanging by a thread. For every new member that petitioned to join, another was either being conquered or converted over to some other cause. The only people profiting from this war was the Corporate Sector. "We need a better plan than just flying in there and attacking the reserve fleet. There are still the troops on the ground to deal with and none of us here has any influence with the army."

There was a deep silence as they contemplated that issue. Xizor had presented them with the one thing they had been hoping for since the civil war had started. The Death Star was gone!

The problem facing Garm Bel Iblis was more than just a tactical one, deciding how best to proceed. There was also a moral one: should he desert the New Republic with a roaming Death Star out there? "We need to talk to all of the senior officers and get a consensus."

"We need an army," Wedge reminded him. "Or at least a couple of military police regiments."

"How about some battle droids?" another voice asked.

Wedge turned to see that Tycho Celchu had snuck up on them. He was holding a glass of mineral water and had a grin on his face that would make a space pirate jealous. Bel Iblis regarded the newest member of the conversation with a wary eye. "A little out of place, aren't you, son?"

Tycho ignored the reference to his age and nationality. "We're all friends, senator," he replied. "We all want the same thing."

"I fail to see that," Wedge said, ready to pull rank on the brash junior officer. Fel put a hand on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. Wedge took the hint and changed his tone. "Why don't you sit down?"

"You fine gentlemen seem to be too busy to entertain me, sir, with all due respect." Tycho leaned in and whispered something into Wedge's ear, stood up and then walked away. He had a typical pilot's swagger to the way he walked. If not for the patches on his uniform, he could have been mistaken for a Corellian.

"Well?" Bel Iblis asked.

"He said he knows where there are a ton of Trade Federation battle droids sitting and collecting dust," Wedge said as he polished off his drink. "It's possible. Wraith Squadron has pulled off some pretty exotic missions during the war and Celchu there has enough medals to make him believable."

"Why would he help us?" Fel questioned as he kept watch on Tycho. 

Wedge shrugged and called to a waitress to bring him over another ale. "Celchu has always been a team-player. He's tried to join up with us in the past."

"Maybe he's a spy," Bel Iblis theorized. "Working for Regis."

The other two men chuckled. "That nerf-herder isn't smart enough to come up with something as sophisticated as a spy," Fel countered. He held a finger. "Xizor, though…"

"Xizor already has a spy in Rogue Squadron I'm sure," Wedge told them. "Maybe he's Imperial or Tarkinist. I'll take another glance over his file."

"Do that," Bel Iblis ordered. Wedge's drink arrived and the three men sat again in silence as they contemplated the fortunes set in their laps. After about ten minutes, Celchu left the bar, soon followed by Xizor with the female pilot on his arm. "What about Horn?"

Fel sighed. "Corran is a loyal Corellian, but I do not want to try and start another Jedi schism. They have enough problems."

"I agree. No Jedi," Wedge added. His distrust of the Jedi was born out of his hatred for Padme Amidala. It was she, as Darth Deceptra that had murdered his sister. Fel had been married to Wedge's sister, but he was more proficient at hiding his emotions. "I respect the memory of Hal Horn as much as anyone, but his son…"

Fel shrugged. "So? My problem is with the mother, not the daughter."

"She's Darth Vader's kid!" Wedge hissed. "Kill the whole line and end it I say!"

Bel Iblis stopped the tirade before it became embarrassing. "Let's worry about getting our home back. Once that is done, we can then concentrate on justice." That seemed to calm Wedge down and Bel Iblis put his next question to Fel. "What about it, Baron?"

Fel started to nod as he ran the possibilities through his mind. "The Trade Federation was taken down completely at the end of the Clone Wars and most of their assets were transferred to the Empire, Black Sun and the Hutts. Those worlds are now under the control of everyone from the Corporate Sector to independent entities."

He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "I know Palpatine didn't have a great fondness for battle droids, but he did confiscate several hundred divisions of them as booty at the end of the wars. I'm not exactly sure what happened to them."

"I was a young man then; I remember those annoying little bastards." Bel Iblis reached out for some breadsticks. Nibbling on one he considered Tycho's offer. "We could go back through Tycho's record and find out everywhere he's been assigned. Look for the droids."

Wedge shook his head and downed his ale, calling again for the waitress to resupply him. Whenever he thought about Padme Amidala, he drank too much. Fel would be dragging him home again. "He's a former Imperial pilot. For all we know, he came across them during one of his assignments for the New Order. We have no way of verifying that."

The other men reluctantly agreed. They realized that a droid army was the perfect answer to their problem. They could load thousands of them on the ships that Fel could provide and they would require no food or berthing. In order to secure the droids, they would have to trust an Alderaanian.

That did not set well with any of them and Bel Iblis was sure that the senior Corellian officers would be upset as well. Since the start of the civil war, the Corellians had been a people unto themselves, trusting very few outsiders. They were polite to others, even fought by their side, but they trusted nobody. The diktat of Corellia had trusted that the New Order would protect their world and in the end, the entire system had been transformed into a place of misery and pain. 

The Tarkin came and he tried to subjugate a beaten people and when that didn't work, he treated them like pieces in some sort of absurd board game. The sunsets on Corellia were always marred by the presence of the Death Star, the creation that had destroyed Chandrilla.

There were very few Chandrillan units left and they, among all of the others, were the ones the Corellians trusted the least. Given the chance, a Chandrillan would give back what they had received, even if that meant destroying Corellia just to get to a few Tarkinists. The New Republic treated Chandrillans with respect and awe, Corellians avoided them.

"Sithspawn," Fel muttered. He turned to Wedge. "Take the guy up on his offer. Hell, there's nothing wrong with an Alderaanian that wants to kick dome butt, I suppose."

"We need more information on this Admiral Rose as well and the forces under his command," Wedge said. He drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for his drink. "I can't figure why Daala would move the Death Star anyway."

"I've thought about that myself," Bel Iblis said as he reached for another breadstick. He sniffed it first before taking a bite. "Daala is impulsive, but she isn't stupid. She wouldn't do anything without reliable intelligence and unless it was worthwhile. What does the Confederacy need that they can't get in our home system?"

"A stable border?" Fel asked. The systems around Corellia were the only truly safe place for the Tarkinist forces as the rest of their worlds were hodgepodge spread throughout the galaxy in many places that did not have a severe Imperial or Republic presence. 

"Shipyards."

There was more silence. Bel Iblis continued to chew as he spoke. "Tarkin was never able to get the yards up around Corellia which means he had to subcontract out a lot of building and repair to places like Kuat Drive Yards and Seinar Fleet Systems, two fairly independent contractors. Sure, they swear loyalty to Ravage, but everyone knows that they do a lot of business below board."

"Has to be expensive," Fel agreed.

"More than that, it has to be frustrating because they know that any order the Empire puts in is going to get priority." The elder Corellian smiled. "Name the yards worth sending a Death Star over."

"Yaga Minor," Wedge said.

"Too close to Imperial Center," Fel replied, shaking his head. "We know Tarkin suspected Ravage had another super weapon. If he does have one, its there. Ravage takes down the Death Star, and then the Imperial fleet wipes them out. Too risky."

"Byss?"

"Destroyed eight months ago."

"Mon Calamari?"

Fel laughed. "And go up against Thrawn? Daala isn't that brave."

Bel Iblis stopped eating. "Speaking of which, do any of you know the last time Thrawn was spotted?"

"He avoids the holovid cameras," Wedge offered.

"Yes, but he is the Warlord of the Empire…"

Fel cleared his throat. "I heard a rumor about some pirate activity in the Outer Rim; maybe he went to look into it."

"That Palleon character that serves as his second-in-command is not fool," Wedge reminded them. "Wouldn't Thrawn leave him in charge even if he left?"

"Unless Thrawn was laying a trap and he had a super-weapon," Bel Iblis said quietly. "Xizor presented us with an intelligence briefing a year or so ago detailing an Imperial raid on the Maw Installation, a super secret research station Tarkin kept. Our sources said he found nothing…"

Tycho Celchu continued to stroll down the vegetation-covered walkway towards the Wraith Squadron barracks, his face one of genuine pleasure. To the casual passerby, he was simply another brave New Republic warrior out for a breath of fresh air.

Anyone with telepathic abilities would know otherwise.

_I have done as you instructed, my master_, he thought.

There was a pause before Malakie could respond through the Force. Tycho was the last of his Force-induced slaves from Dathomir. The four stormtroopers had each died at some point over the past few years. _You have done well, my faithful servant. It is in the best interest of my…master that we allow the Corellians to reclaim their home_.

Tycho took time out to wink at a pretty girl as he walked by, getting a blush and a giggle in response from her female companions. _I do not understand all of this master_, he replied.

_The more factionalized the galaxy is, the easier it will be for my…master to assume control_. Tycho could sense through their mental link that Malakie was not entirely happy with Exar Kunn at that moment, though he could not fathom why. It wasn't his concern anyway; he was merely a servant in a greater cause.

_It was certainly good fortune that you came across the information regarding the movement of the Death Star_, Tycho thought, trying to keep the conversation going. He felt so useful whenever Malakie spoke to him.

_Bah! There is no such thing as fortune, only the Force!_ Malakie griped. The truth was that the use of the Sun Crusher had destroyed much more than the Yuuzhen Vong, there were also creatures on some of the worlds in that galaxy that had died. Kamino had been close enough that the Dark Lords had felt the loss of life through the Force.

It was a simple matter of going through Taun We's extensive spy network to find out that the Death Star had moved. Then Exar Kunn had reached through the Force to find out everything else. The effort had left him in a virtual coma that he was still recovering from. 

Tycho could not know that Exar Kunn had used his own mind to invade the thoughts of hundreds of Imperial officers, from newly commissioned ensigns on garbage scows to old, nearly senile admirals. Because Darth Ravage was using his own ability to use the Force to coordinate the efforts of his forces, with Thrawn's expert advice, there was already a network for Kunn to tap into.

Kunn, however, had never tried such a feat and his new body, which disgusted Malakie, had not been prepared properly for the effort. Malakie had even considered killing Kunn in his weakened state but decided against it. The glory of the Sith, for now, was more important than personal vengeance. For now.


	11. Chapter 8

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 8

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Imperial shuttle, designated S-1, broke through the blanket of clouds that covered the planet Bespin, the pilot ensuring that their descent was moderate enough not to upset Lord Skywalker. In the cargo area, seated like any other passenger, Luke cracked his knuckles before pulling out his lightsaber. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and reached through the Force.

He already had his psychic defenses up so that the Jedi on Cloud City would not detect him and it was a real challenge when his mind sensed the presence of Kyp Durron. He had never been so close to the young Jedi Knight before and he was silently impressed. Luke was more powerful, he knew, and he also realized that Kyp's transformation of Tatooine had more to do with the Force itself than the actual ability of Ferrin Durron's son.

Still, Kyp Durron was a powerful Jedi and if Luke made a wrong move or miscalculated, Kyp would be all over him and that would be it. His plan called for luring Durron away from the others. Corran Horn was a minor Jedi, his abilities tied more into reflex and instinct than any actual discipline. He was not a great concern to the Dark Apprentice.

Leia was an entirely different matter all together, but Luke was not worried. He had already felt the tremors in the Force. Leia was concerned and frustrated about something, though Luke could hardly imagine why. The Corporate Sector Authority had not announced his arrival, not if they didn't want to lose some lucrative Imperial business. 

Luke put the entire affair out of his mind and began disassembling his lightsaber. It was a finely crafted weapon, with a highly polished silver hilt. It was made from hull plating of second Death Star and it had taken Luke months to use the Force to shape the metal into the desired shape. It would have been easier to simply have one made for him by any number of Imperial craftsman, but by using his mind, he had passed a personal test of will.

Luke knew he was the heir to the power of Anakin Skywalker and he strove everyday to prove he was as good as, if not better than, his legendary father. His entire life had been spent in the shadow of that man, the favored apprentice of Palpatine. It was not something that Luke regretted. For even though he had never known his father, he respected his memory.

Fresca sat across from Luke, dressed in a fashionable outfit that his her bruises and clung to her more womanly features. She had dyed her hair red; it was a habit she had developed in her early intelligence training. It helped to keep assassins off guard. One week she would have red hair; another she would have dark skin thanks to sub dermal implants. Luke had even been mildly surprised to find out she could alter the size of her breasts if necessary. 

For one so young, she was a woman of the galaxy Luke decided. He could feel her through the Force and realized that the young woman was falling in love with him and it irritated her. She had hoped to use her charms to somehow enslave him.

He wondered if she realized that she had. He chuckled as his dexterous fingers grabbed the focusing jewel and she assumed it was safe to speak to him. "Why is it that you don't take the title Darth?"

Luke began to lay the components out on his thighs. "The true Dark Lords of the Sith had no need for such titles. Exar Kunn. Naga Sadow. Freedon Nadd."

"Luke Skywalker?"

He smiled. "Yes, Luke Skywalker. My master understands my desire to break from tradition. He says I am young and will come around eventually." He started to reassemble his weapon, continuing to speak to her with his eyes closed. "I can sense that you are apprehensive about the task before us."

She started to apply some bright red fingernail polish. In reality, it was actually a thin coating of a nanodroid impregnated metal finish popular with swoop bike gangs. It could change to over 100 different colors by simple voice command. "No bodyguards except for me? If anything happens to you, I'll be executed."

"In a most painful manner, too," Luke said. He held up the completed lightsaber. "If I put this together incorrectly, it will explode when I activate it."

She showed no fear. "You'll die first. You're closer."

He extended his arm towards her and pressed the activation stud. There was a snap-hiss and the familiar whoosh as the crimson blade extended. She could feel the heat from it, so close it was to her ear. She could detect the faint smell of burnt hair. His steel-blue eyes stared at her and he wondered of his mother had shown such defiance. Fresca refused to even given him the slightest hint of her true emotions.

Both of them burned with hatred. Both of them hated their mothers. Neither had known their fathers. He admired this young woman and her simmering fury.

He deactivated the lightsaber and put it back on his belt. "How will you prevent yourself from being recognized?" she asked him.

"The Force is a powerful ally. In the hands of a novice, it can influence the weak-minded. In the hands of a master, it is a powerful weapon to bore holes into the minds of the common folk." Luke looked out the viewport. "You can pour anything you want into that holes, including false memories."

She nodded. "How our intelligence units would benefit from operative with Force-ability."

Luke didn't respond immediately. He realized that the ambitious woman was fishing for information as to where all of the Force-sensitive people in the Empire went. Just because the Emperor went after the Jedi did not mean that children stopped being born with abilities. 

It was not common knowledge, but there were rumors of strange, misshapen Jedi coming in the night to steal children away. Undoubtedly, she was curious as to Luke's thoughts on the subject. He humored her with a smile. "Intelligence gathering has been done for thousands of years without the benefit of the Force. It is wiser to leave such things in the hands of the masters."

She wasn't satisfied with the answer, but her rank and position gave her little choice but to accept it. Perhaps if she continued to share his bed she would be privy to much more.

Her mother had been the personal assistant to Darth Deceptra, and her grandfather had been an intelligence chief in the Old Republic as well as the Empire. Known as Iceheart, Fresca's mother had forsaken a career in intelligence in order to work closely with the most powerful woman in the universe. It was even whispered by some that Fresca's mother had been in love with Deceptra, a thought that turned her stomach.

Fresca intended to become someone powerful in the galaxy. She had the intellect and drive, and she was not naïve enough not to believe she had the beauty as well. She was beautiful and with her talent for changing her appearance, there was no doubt she could fulfill all of the desires of whomever it was she decided to couple with. 

It was a strange twist of fate that she ended up with Luke Skywalker, the head of Imperial Intelligence and perhaps the second most powerful person in the galaxy. She was still young but if she happened to latch onto the handsome Dark Lord now, imagine what sort of life awaited her!

Luke could sense her thoughts and part of him wanted to laugh at her. Even if they married, even if he fell madly in love with her, he would never surrender one sliver of his power. He was Sith; she was a bed warmer.

One day, she would have to be taught the difference. For now, however, her role was to be by his side. "What intelligence do we have on this place?"

"Bespin was ceded officially to the Corporate Sector Authority two years ago but they have had nominal control for over four. The capital is Cloud City, which has extensive mining operations for the gas at the center of the planet. Cloud City is also a resort of sorts for the rich and infamous." She finished applying the nail polish and put the bottle away in her bag. "It is administered by a man named Lando Calrissian, a Corellian it is assumed, though our files on him are sketchy. We believe he may have once worked for Garm Bel Iblis, but the allure of high stakes gambling and profiteering keep him from being a reliable agent."

"The head of security is a man named Dash Rendar, a former stormtrooper who went AWOL. There is an old warrant for his arrest, but we cannot affect it here." Her voice became quite serious. "With all due respect, my lord, I have to mention one more time that we are no longer in the Empire. The CSA has become a very powerful entity."

"They pale in comparison to the Dark Side," Luke said, waving her comment away. Fresca, like so many others, saw the galaxy in terms of material things. How many ships a government had to enforce its policy. How many taxpayers to keep it running. She obeyed the rules of mortal games. Luke was a Sith Lord and he obeyed only the Force. The Force directed him here through his master and it was here that he would begin to balance the scales that had been tipped against him.

The Corporate Sector, like the Hapans and the New Republic, believed they had safety  and security behind their borders with their capital ships and turbolasers. If only they knew the true power of the Dark Side of the Force! Luke wondered if Fresca realized how easy it would be for him to reach out with the Force and grab Cloud City and send it plunging into oblivion! Size did not matter to one who was well endowed with the Dark Side.

"Of course, my lord, but I'm still at a loss as to how we will get Leia Organa off of Cloud City without alerting local security," she asked.

"I trust in the Force and in the greed of man," Luke said, giving no other answer than that.

The Bespin air traffic controller turned to his supervisor, who was watching the incoming shuttle intently. They had received their orders from the Sector Admiral, the military/security commander assigned to this part of the galaxy by the governing board of the Corporate Sector Authority. 

Technically, the men and women and aliens employed in the ATCC were required to report the presence of an official Imperial diplomatic shuttle to the Baron-Administrator, or at least to security chief Rendar. The orders they had gotten, only an hour before, indicated that they were not to mention in any shape or form, by word or deed that the _Lambda-_Class shuttle was approaching.

The shuttle could hold shock troops, but not nearly enough to threaten Cloud City. There was well over a thousand troops stationed in the floating city and there was no sign of any other Imperial transports on their way in. Nobody in the small observatory control room wanted to entertain the end result of a battle between determined New Order forces and the token CSA force.

They all knew that their existence and the relative peace was because neither the New Order or the Confederacy had the time, resources or even desire to take control of the Outer Rim. The CSA was more than happy to administer and run the operations. Because of that, the supervisor knew that there were times when discretion was better then following orders.

Still, he could tell that the young operator was uncomfortable watching the Imperial shuttle coming in to land. The Imperials were infrequent customers and despite the new pro-alien attitude of the New Order, nobody with half a brain would trust them. "It's probably some military governor coming in for a holiday," the supervisor offered.

"Why do they have to come here? Don't they have enough worlds?"

The supervisor shrugged and pulled out a small cigar and lit it with a lighter with the CSA logo on it. "So many worlds are changing hands, it's hard to tell. I'd say that whomever it is wanted to go someplace stable. Besides, we do have the best sabbac games in the galaxy."

"What about the Jedi?" the controller asked, keeping his voice low. The presence of the three Republic Jedi was not common knowledge. "Shouldn't we tell them?"

Shaking his head, the supervisor dismissed the concern with a wave of the cigar. "We don't support the Republic, we sell to them. You need to remember that, okay? The Sector Admiral, who outranks all of us here, has told us to keep our mouths shut."

"The Corporate policy manual…"

"Is being bypassed this time," the supervisor said as he watched the monitor that was following the shuttle. Calmly, the Imperial craft moved towards the landing pad that was located on the exact opposite side of the city from where Administrator Calrissian was keeping his Jedi friends. Repulsor coils lit up underneath the shuttle as the wings folded up as it went into landing mode.

The supervisor continued to observe as the view changed from one holocam to another. He wouldn't admit it to his junior, or to any of the other employees in the center, but he was curious as to who it was that had garnered such special treatment from his government. He half expected Lord Ravage himself to step out, but he knew better. The leader of the Empire had not left Imperial Center since taking power. "Probably afraid the Coruscant Killer will get him on the launch pad," he joked silently.

Two Ugnaughts regarded him queerly as they went about their housekeeping duties, but did not say anything to him. The diminutive aliens were everywhere in Cloud City, making up a full sixty percent of the population, yet there was not a one that held a position of any power within the city's hierarchy of power. The supervisor wondered why that was until he caught a glimpse of someone coming down the lowered boarding ramp.

It was two men and by the way the moved, he guessed they were professional soldiers. Most likely Black Troopers, the elite agents of the New Order. Some people still referred to them as stormtroopers and they essentially were, except that the New Order had given them a new name in order to discern them from the white armored soldiers of the Confederacy.

They were armed with blaster rifles that were non-descript, weapons that could be found in the hands of any mercenary or thug anywhere in the galaxy. All of the Cloud City security forces were armed with CSA approved weapons and they were normally second-rate equipment. 

The next person that came down was a young woman in civilian clothes. He had the technician zoom in on her and waited as the facial recognition program sought out her identity. "Fresca Isaard, an officer in Imperial Intelligence, assigned to Luke Skywalker's personal staff. She's the daughter of the former chief assistant to Darth Deceptra and the granddaughter of the former head of Republic Intelligence. Old Republic," the technician added.

The supervisor nodded and squinted as he took in her features. His eyes went to the official CSA picture on the secondary screen. "She's dyed her hair and she's wearing contacts."

"Looks like she's still a kid."

"Just a disguise is all. Seems to me that," the supervisor started, "this is an awful lot of attention for such a minor official." He took another drag on the cigar and then stopped as if his heart had suddenly quit. There was a flash of heat that ran from his neck and down his spine. 

The final figure that stepped off of the shuttle was unmistakable. His face has been posted on every holochannel throughout the known galaxy for over two decades. Everyone who had some inkling of intellect knew who Luke Skywalker was. "Sithspawn," he whispered, realizing that orders be damned. 

"Is that?"

"Shut it your hyperdrive down," the supervisor said as he reached up to the earpiece on the left side of his skull. He pressed a small stud and waited for a tone. The advanced communications device would pick up his voice, even at a whisper, as the sound traveled through his blood and bone and relay it over a secure microwave connection.

"Sir, we have a situation that I think you should be made aware of…"

Lobot said nothing as the transmission played itself out through the cybernetic module that was grafted to his bald head. The personal assistant of Lando Calrissian, Lobot was a cyborg, a man who had been joined with an advanced computer in order to make him more efficient. Unlike most sentients, usually humans, that underwent the process, Lobot was not completely devoid of emotions.

He considered Lando a friend and not just him, but Dash Rendar as well. This information not only affected the young Jedi on Cloud City, but his two friends as well.

Unfortunately for Lobot, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

As a matter of routine, he had stopped by this section of the city to perform an efficiency analysis of landing and docking procedures, trying to figure out if the work crews were operating as well as they possibly could. By eliminating waste, even the smallest bit, Lobot helped to increase the overall profit of the city itself and therefore made life easier for everyone that made their living here.

He had seen the Imperial shuttle land and while he thought it odd, he had not thought to crosscheck the flight plans to discover if the security escort had been previously scheduled. It was rare, but there were times that Imperials came out this far into the Rim. Normally Cloud City was a haven for those persons who had no real loyalties or had enough personal wealth that it did not matter.

Even as the passengers disembarked he still had not decided to tap into the facial recognition program just as a security precaution because he trusted in the ability of Dash Rendar's personnel. It never occurred to Lobot that those personnel had been derailed by someone higher than the Baron-Administrator.

When the report came through to him he had two reactions. The first was to link up to the city's computers and the second was fear. It was that fear that Luke Skywalker sensed.

The Dark Lord strode with purpose down the ramp, past Fresca and his bodyguards. A wave of his hand directed the Force into the minds of the weak-willed guards and they started to fall, slumping into small piles in the corridor leading into the main lobby. Fresca cursed under her breath, but realized that she could do nothing to stop her lover.

She issued quick orders to her men and to the ones still left in the shuttle. They would have to get to air traffic control and grab the holocam records and do it quickly, eliminating any witnesses at the same time. Fresca pulled out a small communicator and pressed the button that would link her with the Sector-Admiral. It was fortunate for them that he was a man who wanted to retire in the Empire.

Waves of Dark Side energy radiated away from Luke and permeated the brains of the few beings in the terminal. This was a little used portion of Cloud City, normally reserved for bulk transports and was manned mostly by droids. The guards had been nothing to a master of the Sith ways, but the cyborg was something different. Luke sensed the cold logic that constantly strived to override the raw emotions.

Lobot turned to get away, but somewhere down deep inside, he didn't think he was going to accomplish that goal.


	12. Chapter 9

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 9

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"We are within two standard hours of the Mon Calamari system by hyperspace," Palleon stated. Thrawn nodded slowly and then continued to eat his dinner. Palleon shrugged and began to eat his own meal. They continued in silence until dessert was served by a crimson-plated protocol droid. Palleon could not take it anymore. Thrawn could see that his friend, his only real friend, was curious beyond the point of self-control.

For many weeks now the Warlord of the Empire had kept silent about how he planned to lure the Death Star out of hiding so that the Sun Crusher could be used against it. He had picked up on the speculation of the officers under his command; everything from a secret deal between one of Daala's generals to a magic spell weaved by Thrawn himself. The simplicity of his plan was that it was so obvious that nobody would have ever guessed it. "A spy," he finally said.

Palleon nodded. He had guessed as much and he couldn't resist asking who it was. Thrawn shook his head slowly. "Only myself, the spy and our Lord Ravage know and I intend to keep it so until it is time to reveal them. Suffice to say I have gotten someone into the higher echelons of Daala's inner circle."

"That could be a large circle if the truth about her…appetites is true," Palleon commented. He had never actually met her as Tarkin had kept her, as well as her rank, secret when he was part of the Empire. Daala had been Tarkin's personal protégé, lover and skeleton in the closet. Palleon did not harbor any prejudices against women serving in the military; in fact, he wholly supported it because the New Order needed as many competent officers as it could get. 

Despite the new policy of welcoming those alien species that wanted to get along with humans, there had been no significant changes in the make-up of the officer corps of the AFNO. Palleon had always expected that Thrawn himself would have pushed for more non-humans, but then that would have been beneath him. Thrawn got to his position not because of his birth, but because of his skill. If there was a non-human out there that could hack it as an Imperial officer, they had yet to show themselves.

And that bias extended towards women as well. Palpatine, despite having a female apprentice, saw the "fairer" sex as weak, serving no other purpose then being a breeding chamber with legs. Daala's rise to her new seat of power was simply amazing, put her in the same class as Thrawn as far as sheer determination. The coming battle would decide if she was his equal at warfare.

"What she does outside her normal duties tells very much about her. If the rumors are true, and I have it on good authority that they are, then we have to assume her desire to win is great. She is a seducer, willing to take her time. She will observe her target and get a feel for it before committing to the hunt." Thrawn reached for the wine and took a small drink. His pupiless eyes narrowed. "She will bring the Death Star out at the very edge of the Mon Calamari system."

Palleon had assumed as much if not from a tactical view, but from a practical. "She can't afford to bring it too close to the mass shadow of the planet itself. What about her escort fleet?"

The Warlord did not respond immediately. "She will deploy it out ahead to deal with any possible picket vessels, but she won't let them stray too far. Unlike Tarkin, she will not be too trusting of her weapon. She trusts nothing but herself, which makes the challenge of having a spy in her midst all the more challenging."

Palleon did not say anything seeing as his opinion would be uninformed. Thrawn was playing a deadly game with Daala, making several assumptions about her without actually knowing her. He had no doubt that the Warlord was formulating his plans on the personal observations of his spy, but he could not shake the feeling of uneasiness over the entire affair. 

Maybe he was simply upset that he was being kept out of the loop. "What about Corellia?" he asked, wanting to change the subject slightly. Palleon had only visited the world but he grown quite fond of it and its people. "I wonder if the rebellion there will succeed."

Thrawn got up from the table and Palleon immediately stood as well. Military protocol dictated that once the Warlord was finished with his meal, so were his junior officers. Thrawn kept the glass of wine as he strolled over to the viewport. In this part of the cabin there were no holographic representations of the artistic works of the galaxy. Often times he would sit in that part of his private quarters and study the paintings and sculptures of a hundred different cultures, his sharp mind being honed on the passions of each piece. "Corellia will be a matter for another day, but our Lord Ravage has a plan for it that I must confess betrays his origins in its intricacy. It impresses me."

That was quite a profound statement because Palleon did not remember Emperor Palpatine being a great tactician. Of course, he reminded himself, he never dealt very much with the Emperor to begin with. "Very well, then may I ask exactly what our plan of attack shall be?"

"I will leave you to come in on the flanks of her fleet," Thrawn began. "You will do everything in your power to disable and not destroy even the most insignificant of vessel. Any ship we can take for the New Order will only benefit us in the long run." Palleon indicated he understood. It would be years before the shipyards of the galaxy would be back up and running to build military equipment. "If we follow my plans exactly and we do not incur any more losses than I have accounted for, this battle will shift the power in the galaxy."

"Even with the ships we could get as salvage from this battle, sir, I don't think it will give us the military advantage we need to start unseating the New Republic. In fact, any Rim World we even glance at is going to bring us into conflict with the Corporate Sector Authority." Palleon shook his head. "Forgive me for doubting your plan, sir, but we are going after the Death Star to try and end the three-front war."

"And who knows what other resources they may have," Thrawn said almost in passing. "A worthy consideration, but not one you need to worry about. My goal is to secure the Core and Mid-Rim. I assume I will be long retired by the time the New Order is ready to push out any farther."

"Pardon me, Sector-Admiral, sir," Dash said as he leaned on the communications table to look down at the flat screen. "But I'm afraid I do not understand."

The man to whim he was speaking to, who was safely sitting in his private stateroom onboard a _Victory_-Class star destroyer, gave the former mercenary a smug look. Dash immediately felt like he had just walked into a room halfway through a joke and everyone knew the punch line except him. "Where is Administrator Calrissian?" the CSA officer asked.

Dash didn't even bother to lie. For the past week, strange things had been happening all around Cloud City. Security agents were being found murdered without a single mark on their bodies. Lobot, one of Lando's closest advisors, had simply disappeared and couldn't even be tracked through his cybernetic link to the city's computers.

Flight control was missing several key members of the staff and at least three Imperial vessels had been spotted on long-range sensors, including an _Imperial_-class star destroyer that had its IFF turned off. Absolutely nothing made sense and every attempt Dash made to contact local CSA military forces had been refused. It was almost like Cloud City was being cut off. "Lando isn't here right now, but I am," Dash replied angrily. "I would like some answers."

"What? So there are Imperial vessels in the area; Cloud City is a tourist attraction," the Sector-Admiral replied. "The Corporate Sector Authority has not taken sides in the galactic civil war." It was the same corporate byline that the heads of the conglomerates inside the CSA proper used when interviewed by state-run news agencies.

Dash heard a slight grumbling from behind him. Out of view from the transmission, Leia stood with her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. It was the only thing keeping her from running over and pounding on the communications bench. The past week had been difficult for the Jedi because of something tingling their senses on the very edge of the Force. Dash assumed it might have something to do with the Imperials.

And that bothered him as well because he hadn't been able to find anyone that looked even remotely Imperial. He had searched most of the casinos and even checked out some of the private brothels (which was strange considering it was the first time he had ever gone to one on actual business). There was nothing except some shuttles that were clearly marked as belonging to the AFNO.

Lando was upset as well, but Dash had made the recommendation that he remain out of sight, especially with Lobot missing. "Military vessels are not authorized for landing without proper clearance. There are no records of the clearance given!"

"The Corporate Sector Authority does not take sides, Mr. Rendar," the Sector-Admiral repeated, again with the knowing smile. Dash knew that the man was on the take, that he had sold Cloud City out, but he couldn't even begin to guess why. It was in the Imperials interest to keep Cloud City free. "I suggest that perhaps you go out and have a drink. Maybe you should look up that cute little Jedi girl; I have heard that they can do it all night…"

Dash ended the transmission with his palm on the emergency break button and then turned around to see Leia laughing. "Does everyone think that female Jedi are easy?"

He felt the anger leave him and he couldn't help but chuckle. For a brief moment, he felt as if he were looking at the two of them from outside his body. Almost six years before, he had been the cocky, irresponsible mercenary who had been pulled into the Rebellion by some nostalgic need to save his home world. Leia had been the hotheaded princess of the richest planet in the galaxy.

Now she was an easy-going Jedi, seeming relaxed despite the odd circumstances. He was now the respectable security chief of Cloud City, in a tizzy because procedure had not been followed. 

The two of them had been nearly inseparable since she and he had been reunited and Corran did not seem to mind. Dash knew the two of them were engaged and he was shocked by how much Corran trusted the both of them. Dash liked Corran, but he couldn't help but admit to himself that he was more than just attracted to Leia. The years had been good to her, giving her muscle tone and filling her out. She was no longer a girl; she had become a woman.

Her look made him think she was reading his mind and he quickly threw up some miscellaneous thoughts as a defense. "You really care about your men, don't you?"

Dash nodded. "In a city this big, it is possible for someone to go missing, but it happens so rarely here. Most of the people who live here know each other. It's a tight-knit community. I've got almost a dozen missing persons and potential hostiles just roaming about." He walked over to the small bar he kept in his office and grabbed some liquor. He offered her a drink and was surprised when she accepted.

He could not know that she had been at odds with herself the entire time they had been together. Every other minute she told herself to leave because she could feel his desire for her through the Force. It wasn't the gentle, warm feelings that Corran put out constantly. It was a hot, steady flame just in the verge of becoming a roaring fire. 

A part of Leia wanted to fuel that fire and she had to ask herself if it was her heritage? "The _Millennium Falcon_ is almost repaired and I talked to an officer on a picket ship I'm good friends with. Booster Terrik has moved on, so it should be safe for you guys to leave." He didn't bother say that he felt it was in their best interest to do so. He took a drink and sighed heavily. The past few days had been rough on him and trying to keep the Jedi out of the limelight had been even more taxing.

The issue was Kyp Durron. Dash didn't particularly like or dislike the kid, but at least three times he had to pull various beings off of him once he was recognized. Kyp was a galactic messiah and his reputation only grew the more he tried to dissuade people from that notion. The aliens, all three locked up in the bowels of the city, were fervent in their belief that Kyp was born to bring back a natural order to the galaxy. 

Dash had been most surprised that it had been Leia that had suggested putting the aliens in the city jail. She certainly was not the bleeding heart she had been on Dagobah. "You've really changed," Dash said finally, not knowing what else to talk about.

Leia took a large swallow and let the liquor burn her throat. "The galaxy changed first," she replied. "I discovered that my entire life had been a lie; certainly a lie to protect me, but it didn't change the fact that everything I knew was false." She set the glass down on the bar and leaned on one elbow. Dash heard her lightsaber, hanging loosely on her belt, hit against the bar. It reminded him that she was a powerful fighter behind her dark eyes.

"I wish I could relate…"

"Weren't you a stormtrooper once?" she asked.

He nodded and finished his drink. "Something like that, but there is a huge difference. I lied to myself, I convinced myself that the Empire stood for everything that was right in the galaxy." He poured himself a second glass and offered to top hers off. She took the bottle from him and filled her glass to the rim. "I was wrong and I've paid a price for it ever since. I lost my honor, my dignity after I realized the things I had done in the service of the Emperor."

"At least you had honor to lose," Leia groused. "Everyday I'm compared to my mother…my father…my brother…"

Dash nodded and moved away from the bar towards his desk. Leia didn't wait for an invitation and instead moved to plop down in one of the seats in front of it. She spilled a little of her drink, but caught it with the Force and moved it back into her glass. "That's handy," Dash said, truly impressed. He had seen Corran try to move things with his mind as he trained under Kyp and when he couldn't do it, assumed it was simply to hard a talent. Leia had done it without thinking.

"Remember my heritage; it isn't that hard," she said. "If I had stayed in politics, I probably would not have been able to develop skills like this. It's like anything else, if you don't use it, you lose it." She took another hefty drink and Dash wondered what she was trying to drown. Leia was wondering that herself.

If it had been only a few years before, she would have been appalled by her behavior at that moment. She was drinking like a lonely space pirate and acting not-too ladylike. The royal court of Alderaan would most definitely frown upon her having more than a casual drink with someone of such "low birth". She felt immediate shame at the thought; the term had been something she had used herself on several occasions as a teenager. "Corran's a lucky guy," Dash said.

Leia nodded. "That's what I hear, but I think I'm the lucky one," she admitted. She didn't want to talk about Corran, though. "So, why haven't you gotten married?"

Dash choked on his drink. After a few moments of sputtering and trying to get his breath he finally was able to croak out an answer. "Haven't found that special lady I guess…or maybe there's too many to choose from."

The Jedi apprentice leaned forward, putting her elbows on her thighs. She suddenly felt the need to tell him the truth, that she was unsure of marrying Corran. For all of the great things he represented, he was simply too perfect for her. He had no flaws besides being too caring and maybe, she supposed, she was seeing him through lens filters. 

The awful truth was that she was starting to think she wasn't as in love with Corran as he was with her. She looked at the cool blue eyes of Dash and realized that she was more than attracted to him. She felt actual desire creeping up her spine. In her mind, her fears about marrying were becoming something else and through the Force she thought she detected something…dark. 

Darkness followed her everywhere, though, every waking moment and every second she was asleep. The Force didn't just call to a scion of Anakin Skywalker, it raged and screamed for attention. Once Leia had begun to develop her abilities, she had to learn to deal with a hold new set of feelings. Several times she had wondered if she shouldn't just surrender to the darkness. "I guess the competition is fierce," she said.

Dash stood up and walked to the front of his desk. He pulled out his blaster from its low-slung quick draw holster and set it down on the top. Then he sat on the corner and gave her a hard look. "Look, your worshipfulness," he said with light humor. When they had first met, he had teased her about her position and rank, something she had never encountered as a princess. "Something is bothering you, I can tell. You've been pacing around this city for almost two weeks now. Obviously you don't want to talk to Corran or Master Durron about it…"

She detected the sarcasm when he talked about Kyp being their leader. "I'm fine," she said before finishing her drink. There was a light buzzing in her head as the drinks started to have an effect. "I guess I'm just tired of talking Jedi mantras and stuff like that."

"I always imagined you becoming the Chief of State of the New Republic," Dash told her. She laughed at the idea but he told her it was true. "You would have been a great leader of you hadn't become a Jedi."

She reached for the bottle at her feet to refill her glass and he made no move to stop her. "There's that old Corellian bias against the Jedi…"

"I just meant that now you have a different path to follow, but I suppose we all do." He ran a hand through his red hair and Leia caught the scent of his cologne. It was apparent by the cleaner clothes and more acceptable appearance that Lando had been having an effect on him. "Hell, I thought I'd end up dead on some battlefield somewhere, fighting for a few extra credits. Instead, I've become respectable."

"I agree we have different paths to follow, but there isn't anything wring with being a Jedi…"

Dash leaned towards her as she poured. "The monastic lifestyle? Robes, hoods, celibacy…"

She grimaced at the last word. "I don't think so. It's a different Jedi Order now. The old Order frowned on things like love and marriage, but its different now."

Dash nodded. "Sure, whatever you say, princess." He stood up and took the bottle from her and went back to the bar. He came a few minutes later with a bottle of what Leia knew from her royal court days as an extremely expensive brand. "I figure its time to break out the good stuff." He produced two empty glasses and poured. The liquor smelled strangely like spices and flowers on a spring day. 

Leia tasted it and was surprised by its sweetness. It didn't burn either as it went down her throat. "Careful, it's a lot stronger than that Alderaanian swill we've been drinking." Leia reached out through the Force and touched on his mind and found he was telling the truth.

Despite her training she probed a little deeper into his mind, sliding past the weak defense he had put up and managed to keep his attention by asking where he had gotten the bottle. As he remembered the day he had confiscated it from a free trader that had not paid his dock fees, Leia slipped into his inner thoughts. Darkly she chuckled inwardly as she realized he was nearly consumed with lust for her and that he had selected his positioning so he could peer down her jumpsuit.

She shifted slightly and could taste his disappointment at being foiled. It was a game where she held all of the sabbac cards. She took another drink and began to peel away the layers of his personality. She discovered that while he felt bad about wanting to sleep with her, and only because he saw Corran as a friend, he got the distinct impression that he could have her if he wanted. His confidence was so refreshing! 

She realized that one of the things that had been bothering her about Corran was that he always felt inadequate to be with her. He failed to take into account his own qualities and Leia was simply tired of trying to prop him up emotionally. It was draining. In Dash she found a man who was not only confident in his own abilities, but in his place in life. "Cocky, aren't you?" she said suddenly.

A wry grin crossed Dash's face and she felt a change in him. The game was over for the moment. Somehow, without the benefit of the Force, had determined she was more than slightly interested in him. "I guess I should walk you home," he said truthfully. A line had been reached and he was not willing to cross it until he gauged her reaction.

"I hope Corran doesn't get mad you got me drunk," she said, a wicked smile crossing her face.

Later that night, Leia sat naked in a chair our on the balcony, watching the purple clouds of Bespin float by. She shivered as she wept, trying to remain silent as Corran slept soundly in the room just beyond the balcony doors. 

Over and over she dissected the events of earlier in the night, when she had used the Force to violate the mind of a friend. She had betrayed the very basics tenets of the Jedi creed and the worst part of it was that she enjoyed it. She had actually been aroused at the idea of learning and then fulfilling the fantasies of Dash Rendar.

Leia did not know what was happening to her and that caused her even more despair and as that occurred, she could feel the Dark Side trying to creep up on her. It called to her sweetly, promising her that all of her desires would be realized if she just surrendered.

Leia shivered again as the Dark Side laughed at her.

Laughed at her with the voice of her brother.


	13. Interlude Profile: Luke Skywalker

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Interlude Profile: Luke Skywalker

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

We know him as the last hope of the Rebellion and the start of the new Jedi order, but in the universe of Star Wars Infinities by Christopher W. Blaine, Luke Skywalker is a cold-hearted, sadistic fiend who is motivated solely by revenge and a desire for power.

His mother is Padme Amidala, the former Darth Deceptra, and his father was the infamous Anakin Skywalker, who died as the Dark Lord Darth Vader just prior to Luke's premature birth. His mother was gravely wounded in the Battle of Koriban and surgeons had to remove her children in order to save her life. Unknown to Amidala, she had been pregnant with twins and Bail Organa, then serving as a general in Palpatine's military, had the female child whisked away to Alderaan. There he named her Leia and raised her as his own.

Luke demonstrated, from an early age, the piloting skills of his father and became a podracer before he reached his teens. He won several important races, bringing glory to the Empire and was undefeated until he raced against Leia Organa. The sting of being defeated by "a lowly pacifist" ate at Luke as he grew older and eventually led to him giving up podracing all together, while Leia went on to become a champion in her own right.

From the time he was ten years old, Luke had been trained in the ways of the Sith by both his mother and the Emperor. By age fourteen, he had been given the formal title of Emperor's Fist and he was routinely used as a tool of assassination for Palpatine. Luke had a great deal of love for his mother, but he also held the Emperor in the highest regard, seeing him as a kindly grandfather figure. All of this started to change once he graduated from the Imperial Academy.

At some point during his formal military training, Luke made "friends" with a hotshot pilot named Han Solo. While Han felt a genuine kinship towards Luke, but the young Sith apprentice only saw Han as a tool for his own personal use. Luke used his own personal influence to get himself and Solo assigned to the 181st TIE Squadron, commanded by the Hero of the Empire Baron Soontir Fel.

On the day Luke completed his training, he was assigned permanently to the 181st but soon discovered that he may have not had as much influence in his assignment as he had thought. His mother, Darth Deceptra, had become enamored with Fel, even going so far as to secretly have his famous wife, an actress from Corellia, murdered so that she could have the pilot for herself. Fel, for his part, found himself not only flattered by the attention he was receiving from Deceptra, but made the decision to pursue a relationship with her. Immediately, Luke made it known he disapproved.

In Luke's view, nobody could replace his fallen father, whom he saw as the ideal Sith warrior. When his mother decided to settle for a common pilot, Luke was infuriated. Regardless, the Emperor wanted Luke to get real military experience under Fel and he grudgingly accepted assignment to the Death Star.

When Grand Moff Tarkin made his bid for power, he had Luke, Han and Fel arrested immediately. The three did escape eventually but not before Solo was killed. On Corellia, Luke and Fel parted ways; Fel made the decision that he could not, in good conscience, desert his homeworld. Luke, on the other hand, felt it was his duty to return to Imperial Center. Secretly, he hoped that Tarkin's forces would kill Fel and put an end to the issue of his mother's desires once and for all.

By the time Luke made it back to Imperial Center, Darth Ravage had assumed control of the Empire and Darth Deceptra had been captured by the Rebellion. Luke also learned that Leia Organa was his twin sister and that Deceptra was seen alive and well in her company. Luke saw this as the ultimate betrayal and decided that the only way to restore honor to the Skywalker name again was to seek revenge on his mother and sister.

Swearing allegiance to Darth Ravage, Luke became the new Dark Apprentice and was immediately placed in charge of Imperial Intelligence. Though he was a Sith Lord, he found that he had to share power with Thrawn, Warlord of the Empire. When he discovered that Thrawn had refused an offer by the New Republic to switch sides, he decided that Thrawn was one of the few people that deserved his respect and as such the internal power struggles that had plagued Palpatine's regime did not affect Ravage's.

Five years after the start of the galactic civil war, Luke found himself not quite sure how to get revenge on his family. His mother was in the custody of the Jedi, awaiting a senate trial and Leia had managed to elude assassins and operatives. Luke was also faced with a serial killer on Imperial Center that was murdering citizens regardless of class, bringing severe charges of inability by the elite of Imperial society against Luke. 

Luke, a notorious womanizer, has reportedly started an exclusive relationship with Fresca Isaard, a young officer in the Imperial Intelligence Corps and the daughter of Darth Deceptra's former assistant. Where this relationship will progress to remains to be seen. 


	14. Chapter 10

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 10

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Kyp Durron meditated on the Force. He felt the Light Side and the Dark Side, both of them trying to win dominance over him, both of them kept at bay. As a Jedi warrior, he was trained to see the benefits of both passive inaction and its aggressive counterpart. He was not a Jedi in the mold of Yoda or Mace Windu, but was instead a product of his environment.

From a young age he had to fight an enemy that worshipped death. His mother, his friends and everything he had known as a child was now gone, destroyed by the Yuzheen Vong. He and his father had returned to the galaxy of the Jedi to seek out allies for the coming fight. There was no doubt that the Vong had sent advance scouts into this universe and Kyp knew that five Jedi knights would not be enough to stop them.

The colony he had been raised in had over fifty Jedi in it and it had been wiped out with ease.

He was about to stretch out with his mind and try to reach the currents of the Force that circled the galaxy when he caught the tail end of a dark thought. He tried in vain to follow it to its source because he knew it was close, but it simply disappeared. It could have been another Force-sensitive being or perhaps just a very angry sentient. Even the most common of species could radiate into the Force during times of extreme emotion. 

Kyp's father explained that women radiated when they first found out they were pregnant. It was a physical manifestation of the Force. 

When he found out he could not find out where the thought had been going, he decided to try and determine where it had been. With his mind, Kyp traveled through the passageways of Cloud City. He had already tried this every night since they discovered there were Imperials here on Bespin. The problem was that the Force was stirred up with so many beings in so close quarters and discerning one particular set of thought patterns or emotions was difficult even for a Jedi master. Kyp had many years to go before he reached that level of experience.

The dark thought, though, once identified, was relatively easy to backtrack. As it had passed by certain more sensitive beings, their general demeanors had changed, becoming more violent and aggressive. A Rodian playing sabbac suddenly accused the Chandra Fan across the table from him of cheating and a fight had broken out. The two security men assigned to duty in that particular casino were grazed by the same tendril and they stopped the brawl with more force than what was required.

As Kyp continued to sniff out the path, the emotions and thoughts became darker and baser. One man, a rehabilitated criminal was suddenly finding himself preoccupied with thoughts of committing a violent rape of the woman in a stateroom just down the hall from him. Kyp had no choice but to pause and infiltrate the mind of the man and seek out that part of his mind that agreed that such things were wrong.

In times past, such an act would have been taboo for the Jedi, but this was a new era with a new breed of Jedi. It was better, in Kyp's mind, to help a man achieve the goals he wanted to reach, even through mental violation, then to allow him to sink back to what he once was. 

It was not a difficult effort; the man truly was repentant for his past crimes but Kyp was troubled by the intensity of the Dark Side energy he was encountering. He had known nothing about the flip side of the Jedi coin; he had always assumed that Jedi were warriors and that anger and hate were simply byproducts of the need to protect. Once he had entered this universe and taken the time to feel it, he started to understand what real hate was.

The Yuzheen Vong had not been detectable in the Force and so he had not been able to sense their true feelings towards humans. In this new universe of empires, confederacies and alliances, he could practically taste the malice in the air. It was so unlike the Jedi community he had been raised in.

He continued his tracing of the thought trail and found that it had gone into the private quarters of Leia and Corran. Though he wanted to pursue the matter more, he resisted the urge. In a most unlike-Jedi manner, Kyp had lied to his padawans when he had told them he had gotten over his feelings for Leia. The truth was he felt as if he were falling more and more in love with her every day that passed. He had to shut himself away when he was around her and he felt the temptation to go further into her room if not to just brush his thoughts against hers. That was foreplay in the Jedi world.

He knew, however, that if he went any further, he would never be sure if he did it to investigate the dark thoughts or to satisfy his own lustful urges. Better to side with caution in this situation he decided and he stretched out his thoughts even farther to see if there were any other clues. 

For the next few minutes there was nothing but the general background of baser emotions that seemed to bind the galaxy together and then he detected something odd. It was like tuning a transmission receiver and picking up a faint signal. He tried to concentrate harder on it and sweat formed on his creased brow as he did so. 

With his eyes closed, he did not notice that the objects and furniture in his room were beginning to rise into the air and swirl about. They formed a halo of flotsam over his head as he called more of the Force to him. He knew he was on to something, something that just didn't belong even in this galaxy of raw feelings and blind ambition. 

His powerful mind bumped into another powerful mind and it raged against the intrusion. For a microsecond, Kyp saw the universe through the eyes of someone filled with hate. 

And that person had seen through Kyp's.

Kyp was still dripping wet from the water-based shower he had taken. He had never quite gotten used to sonic refreshers and did not feel clean until he had scrubbed with real hot water. He looked in the mirror at his cut cheek; the result when a glass sculpture, kept over his head by the Force, had suddenly fell on him when the other presence had cut him off.

He held his hand out in front of him and saw that it was still trembling. He swallowed and moved over to the small cupboard that housed his personal belongings from the _Millennium Falcon_. Unlike the rumors and myths, Jedi were not necessarily creditless, it was just that in the past the Order had provided everything the Jedi needed. Some of the former Council members, such as Ki-Adi Mundi, had actually owned property on his homeworld.

The Yuhzeen Vong destroyed most of the things Kyp had ever owned. 

He opened the door and pulled out the villip that he had kept with him for many, many years now. The plants were the communicators of the Yuhzeen Vong and even after all of the time he had possessed his, Kyp was no closer to figuring out how they worked. Villips were paired and the mate to this one was sitting in his father's room at the Jedi Temple on Tatooine.

Kyp uncovered the villip and it seemed to straighten a little. The plant was alive, he knew, and it craved attention. Inwardly, the young Jedi was ashamed he had not taken more time to let the other creature know his appreciation for its services. Villips were the tools of the Vong; they were not the Vong themselves.

He gently rubbed it, allowing it to get his scent or to pick up his particular bioelectric field; he was never sure which it was. The plant then slowly changed its bulbous head so that it took on the appearance of his father. "I somehow sensed you would be contacting me," Ferrin Durron said, a smile on his face.

Kyp bowed before the villip in respect even though the motion would hardly be able to be replicated on the other end. "Master, I have sensed something in the Force and now I feel…fear."

Ferrin scowled. His son had faced a score of Yuhzeen Vong warriors on his own. Fear was not something that Kyp Durron should have felt for any reason. He begged his son to tell him and Kyp began to recall the events of the night. Ferrin listened closely and tried to imagine himself in his son's place.

Memories of the day that young Jedi Padawan Ferrin Durron dared to try and control the mind of Darth Vader. Instinctively, Ferrin rubbed his eye, where a bruise had formed after Vader had used the Dark Side to repel the apprentice's intrusion. 

Kyp finally got to the point where he had touched the other mind. "I was in contact only briefly, master, but it was like having a library of data downloaded into my skull at once."

"Tell me what you saw and felt, Kyp," Ferrin ordered.

The Jedi took a deep breath and took his shaking arm in the grip of his other hand. "I felt evil, an old and ancient evil. Not simple malice, not just dark ambition, but a sincere desire to see life eradicated. I felt a hunger for revenge like nothing I have ever felt before. But it was not coming from the mind I touched. That mind was cold as well, but there was a single bright spot."

"What?"

Kyp hesitated for a second. When he spoke it was barely an audible whisper. "My sister, Mara. I believe that I touched the mind of the one Talon Karrde called Malakie. He is a Sith."

The villip prevented Kyp from seeing the dark shadow that fell over Ferrin's eyes. When the purges had started, Jedi Knight Lyndia Jade had given birth to a single daughter named Mara. It was too dangerous to take so young a child out of the galaxy into the Unknown Regions and so she gave her child to Mon Mothma to raise as her own. Later, outside this galaxy, Lyndia and Ferrin were married and they had a child together, Kyp. 

Lyndia had often confided to Ferrin that she feared that without proper guidance, Mara would fall into a bad crowd. Lyndia's bloodline was full of what she had called "bad girls". "Then your sister is lost, gone over to the Sith and allied with Lord Ravage."

"No, master," Kyp shot back. "I did not sense, at least I do not believe I sensed, Lord Ravage or Luke Skywalker. I sensed a being of immeasurable power in the Force near Malakie…his master."

"Another Sith?" Ferrin's visage blurred as he suddenly turned away. When it returned to normal, there was a perturbed look on his face. "Master Vos extends his greetings."

Kyp decided not to question and simply accepted the fact that he was now speaking to the whole of the new Jedi Council. "I thought there could only be two Dark Lords at one time. If what I sensed is correct, then there are four, possibly five," Kyp stated, not bothering to mention it was possible that his sister was now one of the enemy.

There was some more blurring and Kyp understood now why the Vong executed anyone who bothered them during villip communications. It was annoying and probably very taxing on the plants. "Master Vos says that it was not always so. There were once many Dark Lords, but it was found that they were draining too much of the Force and so their numbers were reduced." Ferrin did not explain that reduction meant murder in the terms of the Sith.

"There is a school of thought," Ferrin began, "that says that the Force is not infinite. There is only a certain amount of energy, for lack of a better word, to go around to all living creatures and to those who are Force-sensitive. The Jedi use very little of the Force and so they do not place a large burden upon it. It is why we are taught to be passive. The Sith, on the other hand, use the Force aggressively, gobbling up every bit they can at one time."

"But I have sensed no change in the Force," Kyp pointed out.

"Yes, but you are a Jedi. Despite our philosophy as Jedi Warriors, we do not pull upon the Force nearly as much as a Dark Lord would. Plus, there are so few of us…"

Kyp shook his head. "But I changed Tatooine! That should have wounded the Force for decades."

Again the face blurred. "Master Vos," Ferrin said as it returned to normal, "wished me to remind you that when you were one with the Force at that time you stated you felt another presence. That presence, you confided to us, was Anakin Skywalker. It is possible that Anakin was returning his power in the Force to the galaxy through your efforts."

Kyp wasn't sure about that, but he had never really thought about it. He had indeed told both Master Vos and his father about his suspicions, but he had never mentioned it to anyone else. If he had been wrong, he did not want to get Padme's hopes up that her true love was awaiting her on the other side of life.

"Regardless, it is disturbing that we have new enemies, but it may explain some things," Ferrin said, trying to a positive spin on the current situation.

Kyp bowed his head again. "It is not all, master." He looked up and had to grip his arm even tighter as he brought up the mental images he had been given. "I saw an army, a million men strong, all armed with lightsabers, all radiating in the Force. Not strongly, but more than they should have."

There was silence and Kyp continued. "They all had the same face, the face of whom I believe was Darth Maul, except the tattooing seemed to be reversed. I have seen very few pictures of him, but I am sure that it was he who was at the head of this army." He took another breath. "This army is meant for conquest, obviously, but there is more.

"Before the army stood the officers, personally trained to be dark Jedi. Malakie referred to them as the Dark Force. They were, I believe, the Force-sensitive beings that have been disappearing from the galaxy, the ones we have been pursuing."

"By the Force…Darth Maul?" Ferrin whispered, not believing what he was hearing. "Anakin Skywalker killed him on Korriban! Padme has confirmed that for us."

"Can the Sith return from the dead?" Kyp asked. He tried to force his arm to quit shaking, but it would not respond. 

The villip went limp and Kyp assumed that it had been taxed to its limits. He would have simply tried using normal communications, but he was sure that someone would listen in. Lando had already expressed his doubts about all of their safety anymore with the arrival of the Imperials and the way security personnel were disappearing. A few moments later, the villip was erect again except this time it was the face of Quinlan Vos. Even through the artificial features he looked weak. "Jedi Durron, you need to investigate this matter immediately. This takes a higher priority than anything else."

"What about the Dark Side tendril I found going towards Leia's room? I think she is the target of someone, possibly this Malakie. I cannot abandon my charges."

Master Vos scowled. "I hear the words but I do not see the face of my old friend Qui-Gon Jinn!" Kyp could not hear the slight chuckle from behind the leader of the Jedi. "You are correct; Leia and Corran," he said, stressing the name of Kyp's former rival for Leia's affections, "are both in danger. The fact that you were able to tap into the thoughts of a Sith demonstrates that there power is growing. You are powerful in the Force, Kyp, much more powerful than I think the Sith realize or else they would guard their thoughts more." 

"I do not know where to begin," Kyp said.

"You said that you felt something ancient, something old? Perhaps we are dealing with a resurrected Sith lord of old," Quinlan offered. "That would mean someone like Naga Sadow or Freedon Nadd."

"Or Exar Kunn," Kyp said. Something about the name felt right. "I will send my Padawan's back to you immediately and will begin my investigation."

The villip fell limp again and immediately brightened up as Ferrin returned. "This does not dismiss this feeling you have about the Dark Side being near, my son. Luke Skywalker has placed a substantial bounty upon your heads and many members of the Corporate Sector owe their loyalty to credits. In other words, you may have been sold out."

"But by whom? Lando? Dash?"

Ferrin pursed his lips. "How well do you know these two?"

Kyp straightened and felt the burning ire building up in him. He had come to know both men in the past few weeks and he knew them to be good and decent men, perhaps rough around the edges, but as honorable as any person Kyp had met. "Well enough, master. I would like to ask them to escort them home."

Ferrin nodded. "I trust your judgment in this issue, my son, but you had better get going. There may not be much time…"

"Master, a final question, please," Kyp said, suddenly realizing he was no longer trembling. He was being given the opportunity to pursue his fears and conquer them. "Wouldn't both Lord Ravage and Luke Skywalker sense the growing power of the Dark Side?"

"Both would probably feel weaker as Malakie and his master drew more and more power from the Force. It could make them more desperate to capture the three of you to try and convert you over to their side. Perhaps they sense the coming storm." Ferrin's visage softened. "I wish I could go with you, but events here require my presence."

"The Corellians are clamoring to invade?"

Ferrin smiled. "It's more than that. Nobody knows where the Death Star is. It seems Daala is better suited for employing Tarkin's weapons of terror than Tarkin was. The various factions want to return to their home systems in order to protect their homes. Chief of State Organa is having a hard time keeping it together."

"Then I suppose I should wish you luck, then," Kyp said, returning the smile. They signed off, father and son, master and apprentice, each trusting the other to carry out their responsibilities. Kyp was to find out what threatened his home; Ferrin was to make sure that home was there when Kyp returned. They had been partners for so long that Kyp was slightly apprehensive about going off on his own.

It was the first time he had ever done anything by himself and he wondered if he would even return. Would he die alone? 

He shook off the thoughts and quickly put on his robes. He put his lightsaber on the inside of his cloak and then exited the apartment. He would send Ippy to come and get his stuff later. He smiled then, realizing that his foul-mouthed droid would be with him. What better companion for a Jedi Knight was there?

He stepped into the corridor and ran right into another person. From her cry of surprise, he knew it was a female. He looked down to see a woman with short dark hair and the bluest eyes he had ever seen, clad in a tight leather outfit. It was the uniform of the Legions of Lettow, a mercenary company that had been employed by the New Republic on several occasions. The Legions, composed of approximately one thousand professional warriors broken up into ten centuries, had a long history of working with the Republic.

Her patch identified her as being a subcommander with the Fifth Century. As he excused himself and helped her up, he told himself that she seemed pretty young to be an officer with a mercenary company. Then he looked at himself, realizing they were about the same age, and silently admonished himself for having such a tainted view. 

She smiled at him and he felt something happen in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the Force. He tried to read her emotions but she kept them closed in. That was not surprising; warriors tended to be that way. "My apologies," he said. 

"Never had a monk knock me over before," she said looking him up and down. She laid her hand on her empty holster and bent slightly at the knee. "Not by a cute one either. Too bad…all of that celibacy and stuff…"

Kyp's face must have turned red because she laughed so hard that he was afraid that they would awaken the patrons of the other rooms. Her laugh had a genuine mischievousness to it as well and he found himself smiling dumbly. "Well, if you ever decide to throw those vows away, handsome, I'll show you some better ways to get me on my back." Without another word, she sauntered past him and he watched as her posterior disappeared around the next corner.

Scratching his head, he moved on to go speak with his padawan's.

Fresca took in a deep breath and kept walking. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the Jedi as she could, just in case he decided to pursue her. She hadn't lied, though, because he had been cute in a boyish sort of way. It was a thought she would have to bury deep lest Luke find it during one of his many mental probes of her. 

For Luke, violating a mind brought more pleasure than sex. 

She had been trying to plant a listening device on the wall outside Kyp's apartment and had not expected the young Jedi to exit so suddenly. She hadn't been recognized, but that was no surprise. Fresca Isaard was not that well known through the galaxy. Yet.

The uniform helped as well, hugging her curves and throwing people off. Wearing it, people saw only a member of the Legions of Lettow and never paid attention to her face or features. It allowed her to travel without an actual disguise.

Kyp Durron had been in a hurry though and before she had started flirting with him, he had a very serious look on his face. Something was going on and she wondered if Luke's subtle influences on Leia had drawn the Jedi's attention. 

The thought of Luke and Kyp, two attractive young men, in a lightsaber battle was very pleasing to her in concept, but she also knew that as an officer in the AFNO, she had a responsibility to protect Luke Skywalker. It would have been nice if he would not make it so difficult.


	15. Chapter 11

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 11

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"Master, I don't think I understand," Corran said, trying his best to hold his temper in check. Normally very even-tempered, he only got upset when he felt he was being kept out of the loop. Before becoming a Jedi, he had been a member of CorSec, working underneath his legendary father Hal Horn. If anything, it was his greatest flaw. Corran was naturally courageous and the idea of retreating did not sit well with him when he wasn't sure what he was running from.

"It is very simple, Corran," Kyp said. "Master Durron and Master Vos require your presence back on Tatooine. The political situation is getting worse and they fear what could happen. The Corellians are wanting to attack their home system now that the Death Star has left." 

Corran shook his head. "It's suicide! Daala would have left a fleet there. It's a trap!"

Kyp merely shrugged. He understood that Corran was more likely upset that he had not been contacted about the changing situation. Perhaps accepting the Jedi way of life had distanced him from his fellow Corellians, but Kyp doubted very much that Corran had guessed it was that bad. Corran had no idea how much the Corellian people distrusted the Jedi. "When you decided to become a Jedi, you put yourself in a position of objectivity. All we can do is offer our support when it is asked."

He then turned to Leia, unsure of how to proceed. He could sense the Dark Side now as it hung like a fog over her head, but even his experienced senses could not discern its true nature. Was it coming from her he wondered? Her attitude had certainly changed over the course of the last few weeks, but didn't think it was possible she was turning. The Skywalker line always had a little of the Dark Side to it. "Do you have anything to comment on?" he asked bluntly.

She almost laughed. How easy it would have been to just let it all out. Her doubts about her impending marriage. Her hidden desires that she no longer wanted to keep buried. Her anger towards the New Republic over how they had treated her mother. "I wish you luck," she said.

"Why can't we go with you?" Corran asked, not satisfied to let sleeping banthas lie. "For five years we've been everywhere together and, no offense intended master, but I don't see what sort of mission you could be taking that is too dangerous for us."

"It is not about you, it is about the Jedi Order and the New Republic. The Jedi have chosen to ally with the Republic and the Republic needs us. My mission is not for padawans." He ran a hand through his dark hair, wishing that Corran would be amicable. Suddenly he saw Corran approaching him, rage in his eyes. Out of reflex, Kyp threw his hand out, using the Force to push his apprentice back. Even before Corran hit the floor, Kyp's lightsaber was up. 

Leia ignited her own and stood between the two. "What the hell are you doing?" she screamed. There was pure rage in her eyes and Kyp found himself confused. He tried to explain that Corran had been attacking him, but she shook her head. "He was just standing there!"

Corran moaned and rolled onto his stomach. "I'm sorry, master; I was just thinking about how I wanted to beat the truth out of you…"

Kyp deactivated his weapon and moved over to help Corran up. Leia tried to stand in his way and there was a brief confrontation of wills. She finally relented but not before Kyp sensed the pure rage simmering inside of her. He helped Corran up. "How did you do that?" Kyp asked.

"I don't know what I did?" Corran confessed.

"You projected your thoughts into my mind visually."

The other man blushed. "I was just getting mad…I actually do that a lot." Kyp nodded and offered his own apologies. "I just want to help out," Corran said.

Kyp sighed and invited them both to sit down at the small table in the room. He could see that Leia was still angry. They sat at the table, Corran rubbing the back of his head and Leia buttoning one more button on her flightsuit. She had hastily thrown it on when Kyp had buzzed their room chime.

"I think I have a lead on a new Sith, the man who may have kidnapped my sister, Mara," Kyp told them. Leia stiffened. For most of her life, she had been led to believe that Mara Mothma had been her half-sister. It was only after the civil war had started and she had been able to get the full story of her parentage from her mother did she find out Mara was actually Kyp's half-sister. "It is feared that it may be a trap to lead Leia into the clutches of Luke Skywalker."

"I can handle my brother," she lied. The truth was she greatly feared confronting him. Her mother's description of him was enough to turn even the strongest warrior pale. Soontir Fel had confirmed those descriptions as well.

"Perhaps," Kyp offered, but her eyes did not soften. He was now questioning the wisdom of leaving her alone with Corran. The other Jedi apprentice looked at his fiancé with rose-colored glasses, Kyp knew, and he always had. Corran was the type of man who treated the woman he loved with total devotion and respect. "However, all of the Imperial activity around us can't be simple coincidence. I've been authorized to request that Dash and Lando escort you back to Tatooine where you will be assigned new duties until I return."

Leia's attitude suddenly changed. "It sounds like a good idea except for one thing: if the Empire is really after me," she then looked at Corran, "or any of us…remember that we're all valuable to them…then maybe we should separate. Give them more than one target."

Kyp tried to get a read on her but got nothing but a red haze. Leia's emotions were running high and he considered that maybe she was fearful that her brother was after her. "It sounds good," Kyp decided. He hoped by including her suggestion in the final decision she would lighten up. It seemed to help tremendously and she visibly relaxed, even smiled. 

"I guess I'll go with Lando," she offered.

Corran shook his head and Kyp got the brief picture of Lando smooth-talking Leia into bed. Kyp was not sure what this new talent was but he made a mental note to consult his father on it. It was a powerful gift that almost made up for Corran's lack of other Force-talents. "I'd prefer Dash keep an eye on you; he's a warrior and good man."

Leia almost purred when she agreed. "Of course, darling; whatever you say."

Luke Skywalker slowly opened his eyes and scowled. He had been doing his best to subtly influence his sister by bringing to light the motions she kept long buried. While killing her would have been extremely enjoyable, Luke knew that turning her to the Dark Side would first humiliate her and second would cause great pain to his mother.

His bottom lip trembled as he thought about the woman who had bought him into this universe. For the first eighteen years of his life he had regarded her as the perfect example of motherhood. She had taught him to be strong, had told him to remember his father, a great man who had been betrayed by his master. How like his father he was now, Luke thought. His mother had turned on him just as quickly as Darth Maul had when he and Anakin Skywalker had fought on Korriban.

He wondered what it was that motivated such people to do the things they did. Luke understood power, but he also understood the hierarchy of it. He was the apprentice and Lord Ravage was the master. In time, if he did what he was supposed to, Luke would be the master for surely Lord Ravage could not live forever. From the way his health went from robust to poor, Luke assumed he would be in control of the Empire prior to his 30th birthday.

The door opened and Fresca stepped in. Luke immediately sent a thought-probe into her mind. She fell to her knees and gave a small whimper as he used mental fingers to fondle everything from her most recent encounter with Kyp Durron to her first romantic experience. He found a psychic door there and with barely a push he opened it and her soul was laid bare to him. 

He saw that she had been raped at a young age and he considered wiping the memory away. It would have been for her own good he mused and besides, he often enjoyed tearing out a memory or two to see how it affected a person. Luke smiled and instead took the memory out and laid it on the floor of her mind so that she would dwell on it.

There was a tear in her eye as she stood up and she said nothing. Luke merely smiled and shrugged. There was no need for her to report; he had all of the information he needed. Fresca, now wrapped in the despair of reliving a most horrible event, ran into the bedroom and slammed the door. The two burly bodyguards moved to go get her out of the room but Luke held up a hand. "She is not feeling well," he joked as he got out of his chair.

He moved across the room and picked up his black cape. It was a flair for the dramatic he had picked up after his ascension to Dark Apprentice. He held out a hand and his lightsaber flew across the room to his hand and he clipped it to his belt. "Contact the rest of our agents; our targets are getting ready to leave. I want the Jedi taken alive no matter the cost."

The two men nodded and immediately exited the room to carry out their orders. Luke went by the closed door to the bedroom and put an ear to it. He could have easily reached through the Force to sense her pain but sometimes the more mundane way was sweeter. He could hear her crying and sobbing and he felt much better. A little despair before battle always helped.

As he stepped into the passageway where four more guards in civilian clothes fell in behind them. The walked casually through the city in the clouds looking to anybody who would cast a glance like some sort of criminal kingpin with his entourage. 

As they moved towards the vehicles that would take them around the perimeter of the city to where the Jedi were at, Luke wondered if there was a reason he was being particularly cruel towards Fresca. Perhaps it was because he had detected her physical attraction towards Kyp Durron? Most likely he had done it because he could and that was that.

As they approached the landing pad, he caught sight of a ship he had read about but had never seen in person. It was an older law enforcement vehicle of Mandalorian design. The pilot in him was intrigued and he tried to remember where it was he had heard about such a ship. It was not something you saw everyday. The Mandalorian warriors were gone now and their weapons, ships and equipment were considered some of the greatest collectors items on the market.

He briefly considered ordering some of his men to go and investigate the vessel. Perhaps he could buy it or maybe he would simply force the owner to hand it over. At first, he dismissed the thought as fancy but the more he considered it, the more he liked it. He called his senior bodyguard to the front of the cabin where he sat; his other men sat in the back away from him. 

He instructed the man with what he wanted and the he nodded. There would be no problem in getting the ship and then one of the men would fly it out of Bespin space into the awaiting star destroyer. All of his men were qualified pilots and were part of his personal squadron. 

Luke smiled to himself as he mentally prepared for the coming battle. Today would be the day he gained revenge on his mother and got a classic starship in the process.

"Sir, I have finished the required transfer of credits to the private account," See-Threepio said from the communications station in the cargo hold. Chewbacca roared a reply and then activated the automated landing protocols. In order to land without being recorded, Jango had been forced to pay a bribe. 

At first, the bounty hunter had been concerned that the person manning the flight control was not the individual he normally dealt with. Luckily, the man they had spoken to was receptive to being paid off and in a matter of seconds; three hundred credits were deposited into a private account at the Galactic Bank of Cloud City. "Over there," Jango said, pointing to a large Corellian freighter parked on the adjacent landing pad. "That's the _Millennium Falcon_, ship of the Jedi."

Chewbacca nodded and activated the military-surplus sensor package. It came back with some interesting results that were immediately transmitted down to Threepio's station. Jango had found that Threepio's programming allowed him to coax more information out of sensor data than the standard equipment allowed.

The golden protocol droid called up to the cockpit. "Master Jango, I'm afraid I do not understand some of these readings."

"That's a first," Jango joked. He started to laugh but stopped when his arm started to hurt. It had been getting worse lately, no doubt the result of decades of quickdraw reflexes. Age was catching up on him.

"The freighter is heavily modified with both organic and inorganic components. Some additions have been made to the shielding that are considered illegal even in the New Republic." Threepio always made it a point to indicate whenever their prey had more violations then their own ship. "There actually appears to be creatures affixed to the hull plating."

"Mynocks?" Jango asked as the hovered over their own landing pad. _Slave 1_, Jango's vessel, rotated so that the cockpit viewport was pointing straight towards the planet's north pole. 

"Negative, Master Jango…I'm afraid the interface you have with the Encyclopedia Galactic cannot identify the exact species of any of the creatures." There were some bleeps and whistles as Threepio communicated with the droid brain of the communications system. Jango had modified it several years back by implanting an R5 astromech droid's processor inside the main computer. It had trouble conveying information through data screens and Threepio had found that speaking directly to it worked much better. "The computer believes that they are defensive weapons, perhaps some type of gravity-distortion devices. The sub-space field surrounding them is slightly out of alignment."

Chewbacca barked out a command and through his rudimentary knowledge of the Wookie tongue, the bounty hunter guessed his partner was telling their droid companion to quit theorizing and come up with something they could actually use. He glanced down at a secondary monitor that was for the outside cameras and he saw something odd. "Looks like we have company," he told Chewbacca.

The Wookie glanced over at the screen and nodded. "They move too well to be local security…those are Imperial operatives."

Chewbacca asked if Jango thought they were after them, but the Mandalorian shook his head. "There are no warrants for either of us in the Empire or CSA, but I think I know what they are after." It wasn't the first time someone had tried to take his ship. The war had really devastated the military and that had forced many planetary governments to confiscate civilian craft for their security. 

That had caused the collector's market to open up as well because real naval fighters were blasting rare vehicles, pressed into military service, into dust. Jango could well imagine that some Imperial Moff on vacation had seen the ship coming in and had decided to take it for himself.

Two years before, Jango and Chewbacca had encountered a governor from the Tarkin Confederacy that had a love for pre-Empire security craft. That man's head was on display in Jango's private apartment deep in the Corporate Sector.

He had hoped to avoid any sort of conflict even though he knew that the Imperials had to be here. Booster Terrik had assured that with his constant broadcasts of the location of the hated Jedi. Jango still wondered about the wisdom of getting together with a bunch of "mind-rapists and spoon-benders" as one Hapan client had once put it, but he had no other reasonable choice. Five years had gone by and he was no closer to getting Malakie and everyone else involved in killing his son.

_Slave 1_ touched down and Threepio continued discussing the _Millennium Falcon_ with the ship's computer and Chewbacca began putting the ship in standby mode. The outside camera showed at least eight well-armed men and women, all human, standing around the exit doors. There was no Cloud City security anywhere. Jango sighed and elbowed Chewbacca. "You ready, furball?"

Chewbacca gave him a quick lecture in Wookie preparedness for anything and they got out of their seats, climbed out of the cockpit and made their way into the cargo area. Opening up the weapons locker, Jango pulled out his favorite heavy blaster and Chewbacca elected to use his bowcaster. "Mind the store, Goldie," Jango ordered Threepio.

The loading ramp slowly lowered and the two partners exited the rear of the ship.

The stormtrooper captain looked at her men as they took position and nodded to her second-in-command as the back of the ship opened up. Two figures walked out, armed and confident. The Wookie was instantly recognizable, a member of one of the races fanatically dedicated to the New Republic. The second figure made a lump suddenly form in her throat that would no dislodge itself regardless of how hard she swallowed.

"Blasted Mandalorian," someone gasped from behind and she turned to throw a quick, hard stare at her men. Discipline had to be maintained. She should have expected it; it was a Mandalorian ship after all. 

Jango stopped several feet away from her while Chewbacca hung even further back. He kept his blaster rifle slung low but ready. "Good day," Jango said in a pleasant voice. His helmet filter made it come out cold and mechanical. 

"That's a nice ship you have there," the captain said, putting on her best smile. Unfortunately, years of combat duty had left her with a permanent scowl and there was nothing pretty about her visage. "I don't suppose you would consider selling it?"

"Do I look like I want to sell?"

Her smile faded away. "I suppose not," she said. "I'd like to say it would benefit us both if you did want to…I'm prepared to offer ten thousand credits."

Chewbacca roared and at least two of the civilian-garbed stormtroopers jumped. Jango smiled behind his helmet. These were soldiers used to being in armor, letting their appearance cower others. That told Jango many things about whom he faced. "Not very much, considering whom your employer is," he lied, trying to get some more clues. He knew they were Imperial stormtroopers, the elite soldiers of the New Order. But stormtroopers were assigned everywhere that even seemed remotely important. The fact they were not in armor meant nothing; they were simply part of a bodyguard detachment for someone important.

There were eight of them, however, and he assumed that they were, at the least, only half of the actual group assigned to protect their primary. That meant someone very high up or very important.

The captain thought that she might actually be able to negotiate the purchase of the ship, which would be a real coupe for her and a definite promotion to major. "I could probably go as high as twenty thousand…"

"That's still spare change for your boss. I'll tell you what…you have them contact me and we'll discuss terms…"

The exchange was ended when one of the younger troopers thought they saw Chewbacca starting to raise his weapon. Blaster fire erupted and Jango cursed the luck. He doubted he would be able to leave any of them alive in order to interrogate them. It was always good to know who was interested in what, especially in the New Order.

Chewbacca roared a standard hunting call and ran into a group of three troopers who were surprised to see the Wookie coming at them. Jango ignited his jet pack and soared high into the purple skies of Bespin. He fired two quick shots and was rewarded with one dead stormtrooper. The woman who had done the talking was moving towards _Slave 1_ and Jango had to admit he admired her bravery.

Then again, he pitied her for her stupidity as well.

"Mind the store" was the command code for activating the defensive subroutines that Jango had placed inside See-Threepio's memory. When he had first found the droid on Yavin 4, he had wondered if there was a practical use for a protocol model. It had occurred to him that nobody ever considered that type of droid a threat and that made them the perfect weapon.

The stormtrooper captain ran up the loading ramp and into the cargo area, looking for a way to the cockpit. If she could override the security protocols and get the ship in the air, she could fly it over to the other side where some of the shuttles could fly escort for her.

She skidded to a stop when the golden protocol droid approached her.

There was a flash from the rear of the ship and a spray of blood and bone. Jango shook his head, wondering how long it was going to take to clean up the mess.  


	16. Chapter 12

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 12

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"What the hell?" Kyp shook his head and then took another look down the long passageway that led from the general area of the spaceport towards the set of landing platforms that held his vessel. He used the Force to confirm what his eyes were telling him and ignited his lightsaber. Imperials were in the hanger bay!

Calling the Force to him, he used it to increase his speed so that he essentially flew down the long corridor towards the scene of battle. In the few seconds that it took him, his mind shifted from planning-mode to attack-mode. During his time fighting the Yuzheen Vong, his father had taught him that there were two ways for a Jedi to think.

In "planning-mode" the Jedi looked at what his role in the Force was and what the role of the Force was to the galaxy. It was the Jedi's duty to plan to be where he or she could best do to further the goals of the Force. In "attack-mode" the Jedi used the Force in any way they could to protect those who could not defend themselves for whatever reason. Defenseless people, persons in need and the destitute weighed heavily upon the Force. By protecting the weak, the Jedi helped to strengthen the Force through good thoughts and action.

Ferrin Durron had explained to Kyp that the Jedi of the Old Republic had managed to keep the planning-mode going, but they had forgotten their roots. The lightsaber had not been developed simply as a work of art or as an extension of the Force; the Jedi had started as warriors. A true warrior did not seek war, but hoped to avoid it. However, the true warrior was always ready to put his skills to the test.

Kyp exploded onto the landing pad, taking down a stormtrooper that turned to face him without hesitation. Through the Force, Kyp had already singled out the Imperials from the others. The Force had come up blank for two of the combatants. As he deflected some stray blaster bolts, he saw a Wookie tearing into a screaming man. That explained one thing to him because he had found it very difficult to understand the thoughts of non-humans since his return to this universe.

There were two remaining attackers and one of them was racing towards what Kyp took to be the Wookie's vessel. It was an older vehicle, Kyp was sure, and it didn't look like it had been well taken care of from the dents, dirt and blaster burns on the hull. But then he decided that the _Millennium Falcon_ wasn't all that great to gaze upon either. Kyp raced after the fleeing man as his eyes caught a glimpse of someone in armor flying by him in pursuit of the last man standing. 

Kyp's quarry skidded to a stop and seemed to sag a little. Kyp noted the blood that was all over the area to the rear of the other vessel. The man turned at once with his blaster up and fired two shots. They were well aimed as Kyp had to slow down to block them. Normally, his Force-enhanced reflexes were more than a match for even the best gunslinger. The person he faced was filled with grief, disgust and a need for revenge. In most sentients, this caused them to become sloppy, but Kyp had noted over the years that many Imperial Special Forces and the like actually got better at what they did the angrier they got.

The man cursed at Kyp and went to fire again. "I don't think so," Kyp muttered as he stuck his hand out. The weapon flew out of the man's hand even as Kyp threw his lightsaber, sending it spinning towards the man. He caught the blaster as the man was severe in two and waited as the Force brought his own weapon back to him. He caught it and turned to see of there were any more enemies and he was surprised to see the Wookie, covered in blood and some smoky patches of fur, and a man in armor he just now recognized.

He did not bother to deactivate his lightsaber. "Stand back, Jedi hunter," Kyp warned. Through the Force he got a sense of general malice towards him from the Mandalorian, but nothing concrete. The man did not like Jedi, that much was evident from his body language, but Kyp could get nothing more than that from the man no matter how hard he tried to read the man's emotions. He avoided anything more intrusive; Mandalorians were trained, it was rumored, to resist such attempts. "I have no quarrel with you," Kyp added.

Jango sighed and Chewbacca visibly relaxed. "I don't have one with you either, kid, but it appears we have the same enemies."

Kyp shook his head. "The Empire has many enemies; just because we are both possibly wanted by them does not mean we are allies."

Jango realized that Kyp was probably not as dumb as he looked. In fact, he noted that there was a familiar look to the Jedi, the look of a professional killer. He had heard stories that Kyp Durron was everything from the messiah of the Ithorians to the incarnate of evil. Some reports he had intercepted on the Imperial and Confederate holonets indicated he was a fierce fighter that did not subscribe to the more pacifistic ideals of the past Jedi. "I've never seen a Jedi kill so coldly," Jango commented.

Kyp wasn't baited. "Once combat is joined, your enemy suffers only from their arrogance. Had that man surrendered, I would have accepted it without question. Clearly he did not realize he was outmatched." Kyp swallowed hard; it was difficult trying to sound like one of the masters. He just wanted to tell the Mandalorian to take a flying leap so he could get on with his mission. The battle with the Imperials was sure to draw attention and while that did not bother Kyp too much, he preferred to be safely inside his ship when the rest of the New Order's operatives showed up. "I'm sure that you have better things to do than trade insults with a sworn enemy."

The bounty hunter laughed. "'Sworn enemy'? I guess that title about fits, but the fact of the matter is that I'm here to speak with all of you magicians."

"I don't have the time, so if you will excuse me…"

Chewbacca roared and started a long speech in his native tongue. His arms flew in circles and his long fingers pointed here and there and at everything as the Wookie did everything in his power to explain. Kyp concentrated on the Force and he picked Chewbacca out of it; his glow was warm and friendly and the Jedi found himself puzzled. Mandalorian warriors had once been hired to hunt down Jedi knights, but Wookies, he had read, were for the most part a peaceful race. Certainly that did not mean pacifistic but Wookies did not normally become bounty hunters and Kyp knew for a fact that was what he faced.

Jango Fett was required reading for up and coming Jedi Knights. General Xizor had an extensive file on the best bounty hunters in the galaxy and when Luke Skywalker put a price on the young Jedi's heads, Kyp had put the file to memory. The shock of seeing an actual Mandalorian in full armor had thrown him off but now it was apparent whom he was facing. 

Xizor's file had indicated that there were two Mandalorians, but that information was over six years old. There had been some notes in he file about an appended report added by Talon Karrde, but Kyp had not been given access to it. "I don't understand your language," Kyp finally said. The Wookie threw his arms in the air and stomped away.

"He assumed you would use the Force to read his mind," Jango said. "Old myth I suppose."

"So what is it that you want, Fett?" Kyp asked. Jango showed no surprise. With over four decades of experience behind him, he wasn't surprised when people recognized him. In fact, he had to admit, it was when people did not immediately call him by his name that he had a problem. 

"The same thing you want…to rid the universe of scum…Sith scum." Jango took a step forward and Kyp made no move. It was a trick, of course; the Jedi could call his weapon to his hand without moving at any time, but Jango was trying to use the set of skill he had the least experience in using. Dealing with people on a friendly level, seeking alliances, things like that were not the norm for him. He and Boba, later Chewbacca, had lived a good life in the Corporate Sector, but that had been a business relationship. He had not needed to negotiate. He simply offered his services for a fee; the CSA had agreed. Very little talk had been required.

"I think Imperial Center is a couple of systems over," Kyp said with a slight smile. "I would be very grateful if you deposed the Emperor."

Jango shook his head. "Not the same Sith I'm talking about, kid. If you're half the Jedi your reputation says you are then you know who I'm referring to."

Kyp put on his best sabbac face. Jango had information about the other Dark Lords! Surely the Force had guided him here at this time. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't…"

"Then tell me where Corran Horn is at. At least I can talk to a Corellian Jedi," Jango ordered. Kyp's eyes narrowed. "I do not have time to play games with you." Another step. "The Imperials are here, Jedi Durron. The New Order and every bounty hunter in the galaxy know about the three of you because Booster Terrik has done everything but gotten Lord Ravage to issue a royal decree about where you are!" Step. "I know for a fact that there are other Dark Lords of the Sith out there getting ready to do something and one of them is named Malakie." The final step put his helmeted head directly in front of Kyp's dark eyes. "He is the son of Darth Maul. He's working for Exar Kunn."

Kyp swallowed hard and looked away. It was a lot worse than he had thought. "I need to…"

Jango grabbed him by the arm. "Listen to me! I'm willing to put aside my differences with your kind in order to pursue this bastard. He killed my son. He'll kill a lot more if we don't…don't…don't…"

Kyp felt the grip tighten and then slowly fade away and he suddenly sensed the pain coming off of the bounty hunter. "Master Jango!" Threepio called out as he came walking down the access ramp for _Slave 1_. Chewbacca roared and came running back over even as Jango started to slump to the ferrocrete of the landing pad. Kyp tried to hold him up but the pain was almost overwhelming because of their closeness.

"What is it?" Kyp asked as he tried to pull of Jango's helmet. Chewbacca batted his hands away, not in anger but out of necessity. Jango's helmet had explosives lined in it to keep people from stealing it. Kyp was awed by how quickly the big Wookie's fingers worked around the armor, hitting the proper releases that would allow them to remove the helmet.

Threepio was beside them and Kyp remembered I-PO. He pulled out his communicator. "Ippy, I need the Vong medical kit outside now!"

Jango's face was much different than Kyp had expected. The image of a scowling, red eyed Mandalorian devil was wiped away as the young Jedi looked down upon a sweating old man. Jango's hair was gray, maybe even white, and his eyes were filled with a pain beyond the physical assault he was feeling at that moment. "My heart…"

Chewbacca started barking and from his tone, Kyp could tell he was concerned. He turned to Threepio and practically screeched orders. I-PO was already next to them, holding a plain wooden box. It had to be wood because the creature inside would die if it were placed in contact with anything inorganic. "Master Chewbacca wishes to know if you have any Jedi healing ability."

"Actually, he said 'ask the damn spoon bender if his stupid ass can help'" I-PO corrected.

"There is no need to be rude," Threepio responded. "I was able to get the message across perfectly."

"Priss," was the reply as Kyp's co-pilot handed him the box.

Kyp looked down at Jango. "I don't think I know anything that can help, but I have something that can help take away the pain."

"Don't let the Wookie give me mouth-to-mouth," Jango joked. Chewbacca said something in reply and Jango clenched his teeth. Kyp hurried and set the box down, carefully unlatching it. He reached inside and gently pulled out what looked like a ball of fur. 

Slowly he took the ball and moved it over Jango, who was near passing out. "This is going to feel funny," Kyp offered and Jango's face indicated he was beyond such concerns. His skin had taken on a deathly white coloring and he was getting cooler to the touch. Again Chewbacca started talking quickly. 

"Master Chewbacca thinks we should contact medical personnel," Threepio translated. 

"No time," Kyp quipped as he placed the ball on Jango's forehead. The Mandalorian made to shout out, to complain, to be defiant once more even in the face of death. The ball of fur uncurled to reveal something that looked like a hairy snail with eight small stubby legs. The legs had little pads on them that the creature stuck to different points along Jango's sweaty head. 

Chewbacca watched in fascination as Jango's condition seemed to almost immediately improve. His color began to change and his face relaxed. Kyp watched as the creature settled in like it was forming a nest on the bounty hunter's head. "I can't give you its name, as I never learned it," Kyp explained to the Wookie. "The creature feeds off of the bio-fields generated by creatures when they are in distress. It can store the energy for years if necessary."

The Wookie only nodded and suppressed an urge to pet the thing. Kyp stood up and looked around at the landing bay. It was complete carnage with eight dead Imperials and a Mandalorian lying on the ground. I-PO came over and stood next to him. "The ship is prepared, of course, and we can leave at any time. I took the liberty of monitoring your conversation out here…"

"We can't leave Fett here to die or wait for more Imperials," Kyp said, cutting him off.

"Of course," the droid said. Then he turned towards the fallen Mandalorian and Chewbacca. "Why don't you get the Wookie and put him in the hold? I'll get the priss."

Kyp did not appreciate the humor but realized they had a problem. He turned back to speak with Chewbacca when he suddenly had a thought. "Where's the security?" he wondered out loud.

"Pardon me," Threepio said. "But I believe I can answer that. An order has come down from the Corporate Sector military commander for this area. It appears he has relieved the security chief and ordered the arrest of the Baron-Administrator."

Things were occurring quicker than Kyp had thought possible. Lucky they had split up when they did and again Kyp had to believe the Force was guiding their actions. He changed the frequency on his communicator and ordered Ippy back into the ship. "Warm up the engines and plot a course or Korriban."

"Lovely," the droid replied, slowly making his way back to the _Falcon_. 

Kyp tried raising Leia but there was nothing but static. By itself it wasn't sinister, but combined with everything else it made him worry. He had to try reaching her through the Force. Closing his eyes, he pictured her in his mind, his heartbeat skipping slightly when he did so. He couldn't help it; he still cared very much for her. 

He knew her mind almost as well as he knew his own. Up until very recently, the three Jedi had been very liberal with their telepathic abilities. Kyp did not like keeping secrets and he had tried to pass that on to his friends. It was how Leia had first come to learn of Kyp's true feelings for her.

There was a red fog surrounding the city, but only perceptible through the Force. Kyp realized that he was in the middle of a coming storm by the name of Luke Skywalker and for the moment he was torn. He had a responsibility to his charges, but he also had a duty to obey his masters. 

Kyp had to trust in his charges and he now understood how hard it must have been for his father to let him out on his own. Surely Ferrin Durron would have liked to have a few more years to train Kyp, but the necessity to restart the Jedi order took precedence. 

Corran was by no means helpless; and Leia was with Dash. Of course it appeared now that both Dash and Lando, the two men Kyp had trusted to get his padawans back to Republic space, were in as deep as the Jedi. The universe was closing in on them and Kyp suddenly got the impression he was standing on the precipice of history. Here, at this moment, the galaxy was about to change.

He looked back at the still form of Jango Fett and saw the irony as a Jedi saved a Mandalorian. "Mr. Chewbacca," Kyp finally said. The Wookie looked at him with soft blue eyes. "I don't know what sort of medical facilities you have in the craft, but I'm willing to be mine are better. If you carry your partner onto the _Millennium Falcon_, I can treat him while we get away." 

The Wookie did not act convinced of the wisdom of doing such a thing and Kyp tried again. "The Imperials are here and obviously are complicit with the CSA military in the area. All of us are in danger. I know why the Imperials want me and it is obvious," he spread his arms to encompass the destruction they had wrought, "that they want you as well." He then pointed to his ship. "She may not look like much, but I assure you the _Falcon_ is the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy."

Chewbacca applied all of the wisdom he had garnered in his two centuries of life and decided that since they had come to ally with some Jedi, it would not hurt to travel in his ship. Besides, Jango was in bad shape and it didn't look like they would get good medical treatment here on Cloud City despite their official CSA status. He barked some orders to Threepio. "Master Chewbacca, you do realize that I am not programmed for piloting…"

Chewbacca shook his head and pointed a hairy finger at _Slave 1_. He became even more agitated as Threepio continued to argue. Kyp realized they did not have time. "Does that ship have slaving capability?"

Threepio turned to Kyp. "Of course, sir; _Slave 1_ has been modified to be the premiere tracking vehicle…"

"Good!" Kyp said, cutting the droid off. He had to agree with Ippy; Threepio was a priss. "I'll have my co-pilot send establish a slaving link with you and you will be able to follow us without touching the controls."

"Oh, very good, sir," the golden droid said with enthusiasm. "But might I suggest that I accompany you in your ship?" Chewbacca, with Jango in his arms, passed by and grunted at the droid. Kyp got the idea that it would not be a good idea to have the droid on his ship.

"I think your master would appreciate it more if you were to clean up the ship while he was being treated," Kyp said, pointing to the blood-splattered rear gangway. He did not want to know what had done that. 

"Ah, of course," Threepio responded as he turned to regard his mess. "However, if you require the services of a translator…"

"I have my co-pilot," Kyp reminded him.

"But, sir, the military protocol series lacks…"

Kyp suppressed the urge to shove the droid into the side of _Slave 1_. "Just go, okay?" he finally said before turning around and running to his own vessel. He was in the cockpit in his seat in seconds. "Mister Chewbacca, we'll be taking off momentarily. I strongly recommend that you ensure Fett is strapped down. Things might get bumpy."

I-PO hit the switches that would seal the ship for space flight. "Want me to open the dovin basal canopies?" Then the droid turned his head and changed his voice to match Threepio's. "Oh please, sir, may I suck up some more?"

"You could learn some manners from that one," Kyp said. "And no, do not open the canopies unless we come up against some real trouble. Without Leia and Corran, we'll have to operate the guns from up here."

"You mean I will," Ippy told him, his voice back to its normal mechanical sarcastic tone. " After all, you are only human. One function at a time, slow reflexes."

Kyp ignored the jibe and activated the repulsor coils. Ippy, in turn, started the communications link between the _Millennium Falcon_ and _Slave 1_. After a few seconds he grumbled. "That little priss will not shut up! Can I blast him when we reach Korriban?"

"Be careful," Kyp started with a smile, "he might be your father."

The tint of Ippy's eyes changed from green to a shade of red.

"Sector Admiral, sir," the tactical officer called out. "We have two vessels coming up from Bespin at a high rate of speed. Neither ship can be positively identified though the computer suggests one of them is the personal vessel of Jango Fett."

The Admiral rubbed his chin. He knew that Fett was on Bespin and down on Cloud City, but a check of official communications indicated that the bounty hunter/security specialist was on a leave of absence. That did not negate the status that Fett had within the Corporate Sector. "One of our technicians has managed to get a visual with the long range camera's, sir, and reports that Fett's vessel appears to be in pursuit of a YT-1300 series freighter."

"That matches the description of the Jedi vessel in the area," the ship's captain whispered into his ear. The Sector-Admiral nodded and shifted in his seat, watching the computer simulation on one of his screens of the other ships. They would be leaving the Bespin area of jurisdiction in seconds and would, officially, be in his patrol zone. He would then be obligated to do something if only to cover his own ass.

He had no plans to return to the CSA proper; the bribes he had received from Luke Skywalker was his key to a perfect retirement. He could not allow anything to screw it up and he could see something of a small smirk on the captain's face. The ship's master probably suspected the true events that were occurring but he was career-minded enough not to accuse a superior without actual proof.

"If the bounty hunter is in pursuit, then by his contract with the Board of Directors, we cannot act," the ship's legal officer announced. The man was on the bridge qualifying for his space combat badge and had taken an interest in the events. 

"True," the Sector-Admiral replied, "but this could be a crime in progress as well. Tell me, has the freighter filed a flight plan out of the system?"

There was a pause as someone checked. The captain shrugged. "It could be simple lag in the system."

"Perhaps…"

"Should we launch fighters to pursue?" the captain asked, wondering what the response would be. 

"Yes," was the response. The Corporate Sector _Victory_-class star destroyer they were one had several different fighter and utility craft for a variety of missions. He looked down at the status board and saw that the secondary alert craft were Y-wing fighters. He gave the order to launch them and the captain complied though the tone of his voice indicated he was not satisfied.

In such a situation, where the true identity could not be verified, any vessel suspected of being involved in a crime was to be immediately stopped and boarded. Of all of the offenses that were intolerable in the Corporate Sector, smuggling was the worst because it took profits directly from investors. While the Sector-Admiral was complying with the letter of his orders, he was not adhering to the spirit.

Their vessel and its escorts were situated in the center of the system near most of the hyperspace entry and exit points. This would allow them to examine at least 75% of the vessels entering the Bespin system at any time. There were always two sets of alert craft, plus the combat space patrol. Even the captain would not pull off his patrols to investigate something that could be a diversion. Launching the alerts made the most sense in this situation.

The Y-wings were slow craft, though tough. They were most useful against slower, capital ships. The other alert fighters, a pair of Z-95 Headhunters, were better suited for intercept duty. Throwing the Y-wings at the problem was akin to doing nothing because they would never be able to keep up with the other vessels.

Then the Sector-Admiral did something that was odd but certainly wasn't illegal. He ordered the communications officer to open a hailing channel to the Imperial flotilla that was sitting parked at the very edge of the system. They were there because, they claimed, several of their officers were vacationing on Cloud City. They had paid the appropriate fees and had also allowed CSA representatives to remain on their ships for the duration of their officer's stay on Bespin.

The main viewer switched from a tactical view to the portrait of a man wearing the black uniform of the Armed Forces of the New Order. His rank insignia showed him to be a captain. "Ah, Captain Reyjak," the Sector-Admiral stated almost warmly.

"Admiral," the Imperial replied. Behind him the view showed a Corporate Sector officer monitoring the conversation with a black-armored stormtrooper next to him. "Our long range sensors have shown some activity around the planet. Should I be concerned about my men on your planet?"

The Sector-Admiral shook his head. "Just some minor trouble with a Jedi or two. It appears they are heading in your direction. We are trying to stop him but it does not look like we will be able to catch up. Regardless, we do not wish to have any interference in CSA business."

There was almost a twinkle in the Imperial's eye. "Of course, Admiral. Revjak out."

The screen went blank and the Sector-Admiral sat back, continuing to watch the tactical view. The escaping ships blew past the Corporate Sector fleet, narrowly "missing" it by a thousand kilometers. The Y-Wings took off in pursuit, but by the data next to their icons, it was obvious they would never even get into firing range before the other ships made their jump into hyperspace.

"Admiral! The Imperials are launching fighters!" came a cry from the sensor station. 


	17. Chapter 13

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 13

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The ships exited hyperspace as one. Thirteen vessels ranging from a single _Imperial_-class star destroyer to the three _Guardian_ series patrol craft immediately moved into a modified wedge with the larger capital ship at the point. Like an animal shaking off water from its coat, many of the vessels began to release their star fighters. TIE fighters of all types and several other craft, including _Lambda_ and _Assault_ class shuttles took up positions next to larger troops transports as the armada made its way towards the planet Sullust.

The world was home to a race of humanoids that appeared almost mouse-like, but their looks were deceiving. Behind their large black eyes and even more massive ears were brains and those brains held high intelligence in nearly every member of the race. Sullust had some of the best shipyards in the galaxy, though none of them were large enough to accommodate capital vessels, and it had often times made the world arrogant.

In a galaxy where space-worthy vessels were starting to become something of a luxury item, even a world that mostly built pleasure yachts was desirable. The SoroSub Corporation, which controlled the world, had been of late negotiating the possibility of leaving the Tarkin Confederacy and joining the Corporate Sector. One of the few non-human worlds in the Confederacy, it had been under appreciated as Tarkin refused to even allow minor star fighter contracts to the aliens.

SoroSub had survived, it claimed, by marketing to the very rich. The truth was, as Daala's spies had determined, was that they were servicing Republic craft. X-Wings, Y-Wing's and the like, all of them were brought in secretly and repaired or updated. As a show of force and as an indication that things were changing, Daala had sent the invading fleet to teach Sullust a lesson.

Nobody left the Tarkin Confederacy alive.

"Form up on me," the flight leader said as he made a final adjustment to the HUD crosshairs. Behind him his twin ion engine, the component that gave his Interceptor its name, hummed with power as it pulled in precious energy through the dagger-shaped solar panels on either side of the cockpit. His two wingmen acknowledged the order and soon the trio were speeding ahead of the advancing Confederacy war machine.

"Tau One, this is flight control," a voice said over his intercom. "You have incoming Republic craft. Repeat: we have identified Republic star fighters approaching your position. You are weapons free." The pilot smiled behind his helmet and reached down to his targeting screen. He pressed the glyph for the nearest enemy ship (as identified either by their IFF signal or by master control) and it targeted a Republic X-Wing fighter. They were over six kilometers from each other and at their current speed, they would be in laser range within a standard minute or so. He assigned the X-Wing to Tau Two and watched as the Interceptor to his right accelerated and veered away. The X-Wing took the challenge and broke off from his own formation. That left three more of the Republic ships to his two.

He considered calling in some reinforcements from his own command but dismissed the thought even as he adjusted his laser recharge rate. It caused his top speed to come down, but he was still faster than the X-Wing. No doubt a squadron of Republic star fighters had been here for a refit and were now trying to pay for the work in trade. The flight leader shook his head. He would never allow an inferior race touch his precious fighter. "Stay with me," he commanded his remaining wingman.

At less than two klicks his missile lock alarm sounded and the flight leader smiled. It was a standard New Republic attack. The X-Wing, a tough fighter to be sure, would put all of its shielding forward to protect the pilot as it closed the gap to fire its concussion missiles. There was really nothing that could be done about it in something like a TIE Interceptor. If you tried to get away, you ended up spending the next five minutes trying to outrun the weapon. If you were running, you weren't fighting and that meant somebody could get through to your base ship.

It wasn't some sense of Confederate loyalty that made TIE pilots protect those capital ships, it was practicality. The Confederation had very few TIE forces; in fact, the squadrons assembled for this battle represented 35% of the Imperial designed fighters left in Daala's arsenal. Most of the snub fighters in use by Tarkinist forces were a hodgepodge of whatever they could get, including some new, untested designs. One thing all of those other models had that most TIE's did not were hyperdrives. Without a hyperdrive, then you were dead because eventually your engine would either give out or your life support would.

Two missiles were approaching the flight leader and he selected single shot mode. In linked mode, his quad lasers fired at the same time, offering more punch but less shots as it took time for the lasers to recharge. In single fire mode, the pilot could keep up a continuous assault.

The flight leader, a veteran of more battles than he cared to count, selected the nearest enemy button again and it targeted the projectile that was closest. He did not waver, but instead kept flying straight towards impending death. At the last possible moment he fired his lasers. Green lances reached out and burned up the missiles. The Interceptors flew straight through the debris field, pieces of the weapons bouncing off of their hulls. 

The X-Wing pilots had no choice but to break formation and the two Interceptors pounced on the closest one as soon as it presented its backside. The wingman fired first, scoring several hits but not doing enough to lower the Republic fighter's shielding enough for some real damage. "Check your recharge rate," Tau One ordered. "Your shots are getting weaker."

"Got one on my tail," Tau Two called out. There was no fear in his voice; it was just a simple statement of fact. Tau One could not take the time to assist as he was pouring laser fire into the X-Wing. "Gunboat Gamma One, this is Tau One."

There was a pause and then a gruff voice replied. "Gamma One." 

"Tau Two is going to lead one to you, I suggest you disable and capture," he explained. The assault gunboat pilot confirmed he understood and though he could not see them, he was sure that at that moment, three of the craft were now going to the aid of his pursued wingman.

Assault gunboats were the workhorses of the Confederation fleet. Originally developed as a multiple weapons platform, it suffered from extremely slow speed. Even Y-Wings could outrun them on a good day! They were, currently, the only ships in this attack that were maneuverable enough to employ ion cannons on enemy ships. Normally, they assaulted capital vessels, but they were never above taking on the occasional star fighter.

Their prey exploded in shower of sparks and flame as the compressed oxygen canisters erupted and the two TIE Interceptors circled around to find more victims. The battle was now in full swing as ten Republic star fighters engaged the sixty fighters of the Confederation. In the distance, two SoroSub _Evictor_-class frigates, a new design turned down by the Confederation Appropriations Committee, were engaging the _Guardian _patrol craft. 

An X-Wing blazed by in front of them and Tau One signaled they were to pursue. As they took up position behind the Republic pilot, both fighters slowed speed to match their quarry. Together they fired their lasers and eight beams of coherent light chewed through the magnetic shielding, eviscerated the astromech droid in the rear socket and then effectively cut the ship in half.

Tau One was about to congratulate Tau Three on a good kill when his wingman exploded. Immediately, the veteran pilot pulled his yoke back and accelerated to full throttle. He went up on the Z-axis, putting as much distance between himself and the atoms of his now-dead comrade as he could. A light at the top of his HUD indicated he was being shot at from the rear. "No kidding," he muttered as he pushed the recall button for Tau Two.

"Still engaged, sir," came the reply. Tau One could hear some laser fire over the transmission. He jerked the yoke over hard and hit the rudder, sending his ship into a spin. A Republic X-Wing blew by him but he knew that its pilot was already turning to come back after him. He leveled out and turned towards the battle erupting between the _Evictors_ and _Guardians_.

Another button switched his weapons from lasers to the proton torpedoes he had outfitted on his hull in an external launcher. TIE Interceptors normally did not have any weapons besides the lasers mounted on each dagger point. However, because TIE Bombers were in very short supply, it was standard practice to modify other fighters as necessary. 

He switched his targeting computer from who was following him to the nearest _Evictor_, a ship named _Pride of SoroSub_. By shifting his weapons to torpedoes, he no longer needed extra energy to keep his lasers charged and he could increase his speed. There was a surge as he did so and he smiled grimly as he imagined the X-Wing pilot cursing their luck as he zipped out of range. The greatest danger now was being shot in the back by a concussion missile. A quick check of his HUD showed that he was being tracked by the X-Wing's missile radar.

Tau One juked left and right, making himself a harder target to lock onto, but kept racing towards the Sullustian ship. He changed his comms channel to the general selection and listed to the sounds of battle raging through the sector. Apparently SoroSub managed to get a hold of some Imperial vessels that were never turned over to the Confederation military. A _Victory_-class star destroyer and an older strike cruiser had jumped into the system behind the Tarkinist fleet. 

His reinforcements had been called out to deal with the newest threat but he didn't care. His training, from when he had been part of the Empire, had taught him to be self-reliant and also to be willing to sacrifice himself if necessary in the service of his emperor, who was in this case Grand Moff Daala. He didn't want to die, that was for sure, but only because he wanted to continue to fight for the cause that he believed in. Human rights. Human superiority. Human dominance.

"The star destroyer had been identified as the _Dark Vomit_," the sensor officer called out. The captain of the Confederation star destroyer nodded and turned to the admiral. 

"Permission to engage, sir?" he asked in a crisp and proper military tone. Many of the officers in the Tarkinist forces considered themselves the models of the military elite. So much so that even their speech had to be above reproach. 

"Granted," the admiral acknowledged. It would not have mattered anyway. The Sullustian ships were on a direct course for them and running away, though possible, would accomplish nothing. They were here to make an example of Sullust for the entire galaxy. That meant engaging all enemies before passing sentence on the rebellious world. The admiral's only regret is that while they were here, the Death Star was making its way to Mon Calamari where it would deliver a lethal blow to the New Order.

The ship's captain ordered a turn to port and then to launch the five missile boats that were sitting ready just in case of an event such as this. The missile boats were armed with dozens of projectiles and were small enough to normally evade turbolasers on capital ships. It was with them they intended to deliver the blows that would bring down the shields of the alien's ships.

Then the star destroyer would turn its ion cannons on them and they would capture the vessels, returning them to the hands of their true masters. Their true _human _masters.

He admiral strolled over to the battle board and examined the multitude of colored dots and ship icons that were on it. Green indicated Confederate forces, red was for the enemy. There were a few cyan and violet ones as well, mostly civilian or unidentified vessels. Perhaps some cargo haulers that could be pressed into military service?

"Captain, is there any way we can have these ships inspected?" he asked out loud. The captain finished issuing his orders and as the ship went to general quarters he came to stand next to the admiral. The strike cruiser fired at them and the turbolaser blast was absorbed by the star destroyer's shielding. The excess energy was bled off as visible light. A small display indicated that shield strength was down to 95%.

"Not at the moment, sir," the captain said. He pointed to where several dots were swarming like sand fleas on a bantha. "An entire squadron of Republic X-Wings was stationed here, most likely for repairs. That has presented a problem we were not exactly ready for, but not anything that would compromise the mission."

The admiral did not bother to state that the two capital-class vessels were also a surprise. The Tarkinists considered the creatures of Sullust cowards and they had only been allowed to continue self-rule because nobody wanted to govern the "planet of rats". It was obviously a mistake now that they could look at it in hindsight. The fact that Republic forces were here indicated that there could have been some major security leaks here.

"Captain, send a flash message to Admiral Rose at Corellia. Inform him that it is possible the Republic may be aware of the movement of our vessels." The commander of the star destroyer made to add a comment, but the admiral raised a hand. "They know the Death Star has moved, I'm sure, but there is no sense in advertising that our more conventional forces are stretched so thin." Another blast rocked the ship. "And would you please do something about that?"

Tau One's viewport was filled with Sullustian frigate. 

Up close he realized that the design was not as flawed as his superiors and the news services had made it out to be. It was wedge-shaped but had an engine section that reminded the pilot of a Corellian corvette. It was bristling with laser cannons and jamming gear, but no major capital class turbolasers. It was actually an anti-fighter ship, much like the Imperial-designed _Lancer_-class, but it had heavier armor and obviously more speed. As his targeting reticule turned red for lock-on, he pressed the firing stud on the yoke and pulled up hard. 

The torpedo struck home, pushing through the weakened shields and impacting against the hull. There was a brief flash that caught the pilot's eye and he assumed that he had gotten the message across.

Behind him, the X-Wing had been joined by another and a rare A-Wing fighter painted in the corporate colors of SoroSub. All three were trying their damnedest to get a bead on him, and the A-Wing was doing a good job of keeping up, but if he were right, it would do no good.

A large light started blinking on the HUD, telling him that the _Evictor_ was now firing on him as well. The problem with capital ships guns, except for those damn Mon Calamari designs, was that they were limited in their angle of fire. Go up far enough over their horizon and there was nothing they could do about it. 

The TIE Interceptor weaved in and out of the blazes of light coming from the ship as it tried to exact revenge for his strike. As he thought, his pursuers tried to follow him.

The newest X-Wing was the first to fall victim to friendly fire as the gunners started firing wildly in the hopes of scoring a hit. The Incom fighter was destroyed just before another TIE Interceptor from Alpha Squadron slammed into the _Evictor_. Tau One realized that the fight was now in full swing as the aliens attempted to halt the advance towards their world with everything they had.

Tau One rolled in time to avoid a shot from the A-Wing and darted between the two larger ships. The _Guardian_-class ships were not doing very well, but they had not been designed for such rigorous combat. He considered contacting main control to see if they understood the dire straits that the two patrol vessels were in, but decided against it. He had to trust in the ability of the ship's commanders.

The A-Wing, intent on blasting him out of the sky, was not ready for his turn and reacted a second too late. The pilot's arc took him straight into the path of a civilian vessel that was trying to get as far away as possible. Such was the lot of those who found themselves in the middle of a conflict. Had they not been associating with inferior species, then they wouldn't have been in danger!

Despite his best efforts however, which included several close passes to the larger ships, he could not shake the Republic X-Wing that had been his adversary since the start of the battle. Tau One turned towards the planet itself and was surprised to see streaks of blue and green light racing up from the planet's surface. The blasts were pouring into the _Guardian's_ and tearing them to shreds. Moments later, both ships exploded.

He pulled hard to port and skimmed the upper atmosphere; his TIE Interceptor glowing as its hull heated up from the friction. The X-Wing followed but the enemy pilot managed to avoid skirting the upper canopy of Sullust. A shot nicked the starboard solar panel and the damage assessment screen showed that he had lost a laser cannon.

Tau One turned and headed back towards the main battle and dumped all of his available energy into his engines. The X-Wing seemed to have the same idea as it was working hard to keep up. The missile lock light was flashing yellow and Tau One jerked the yoke and headed up and to starboard. The Republic fighter was not shaken and they corkscrewed through a dogfight between an unknown Sullustian fighter and two TIE fighters.

The X-Wing stuck to his tale and suddenly the missile lock turned red and the alarm screamed through the cockpit. Still, the pilot in the black body glove and breath mask remained calm. The alarm meant death was coming at his back, but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He pulled back the yoke and lowered his speed, hoping to loop up and behind the X-Wing.

He never got the chance as the concussion missile slammed into the rear of his fighter. The initial explosion pushed the twin ion engine through his torso just before it consumed the entire craft in a small fireball. The Republic pilot let out a cry of victory as she pushed her own ship through the scattering atoms of her prey. As she emerged from the wreckage cloud, her fighter crashed into a disabled Y-Wing that had been marked for capture.

The admiral shook his head as the damage reports kept coming in. The Sullustians and New Republic forces had been routed, with fewer than 10% escaping into hyperspace. How he wished there were some interdictor cruisers left in the Confederation fleet; their giant gravity-well projectors would have prevented any escape. Unfortunately, all of those specialty ships had either been destroyed or captured during the civil war.

Teaching Sullust a lesson was turning out to be extremely expensive for Grand Moff Daala. Two _Guardian_-class patrol craft and a _Victory_-class destroyer destroyed instead of captured. The strike cruiser was not in the best of shape either. Its crew had put up a valiant effort to resist and the Tarkinists had been forced to use Zero-G stormtroopers to take the bridge. It would be several days before technicians and astromech droids would repair it sufficiently to move it out of the system.

The worst part had been the loss of the fighters. Against some forty enemy snubnose ships, the Confederacy had lost almost every single TIE fighter it threw at Sullust. In total, one capital ship, three freighters and two half-destroyed Y-Wings were to be added to the ranks of the admiral's fleet.

Then there were the transports that had been shot down by the planet side guns of the Sullustians. Five hundred troops lost to the vacuum of space; not a single transport made it to the surface. Luckily, there was a Plan B in the event that things did not go well.

The admiral looked to the status board as the captain discussed something with the duty officer. Once finished, he joined his superior to make his report. "The Orbital Night Cloak will be installed in another day according to the Weapons Officer."

The admiral nodded. "A shame, I suppose. But it will serve as an example to all. Ensure that that the entire event is broadcast on the general holonet bandwidth."

"Sir! Sir!" the valet called out, running down the columned hallway towards the black hovercar. Chief of State Regis Organa stopped and smiled despite being slightly perturbed. The valet, a young Alderaanian man wearing the garish costume of a courtier stopped breathlessly in front of the two security men who protected the leader of the New Republic at all times. Behind Regis, General Xizor spoke quietly into a small communicator.

"Yes, Roget," Regis replied.

The valet pushed past the guards, not noticing how they expertly patted him down as he squeezed through. Roget leaned in close and whispered into Regis' ear. The Chief of State's face changed from annoyance to shock. He then turned to Xizor. "Daala's forces just attacked Sullust!"

Xizor nodded and put the communicator back in his breast pocket. "Vanguard Squadron was stationed there for a refitting. Their squadron leader was the only one to escape."

"Damn it!" Regis said and then remembered that there were holocams on them. He ordered Xizor into the hovercar without any further comment to the valet. As they sped off, Regis went into a full tirade. "Why did they attack their own world? Is Daala insane?"

Xizor shook his head. "Daala is not Tarkin; she believes in direct confrontation with her enemies and she hates rebellion against authority. Sullust is lost and with it a very good resource for maintaining our smaller military craft."

Regis banged a fist on an armrest. Xizor could tell by his face that he had hurt himself. "Options?"

The Falleen had none. "Seinar Fleet Systems won't deal with us and a most of the smaller yards are afraid of reprisals from the Empire or the Confederation." He then got a wicked smile. "We could ask the Corporate Sector…"

"No! The Republic will not become another corporate takeover. What about the Hapans??"

Xizor shook his head. "Not so long as we allow the Jedi to operate freely within the Republic. The Ta'Chume has made it clear that she will have no dealings with this government until we change our more…liberal attitudes."

"That self-righteous bitch! Reminds me of Amidala," Regis said with a dark chuckle. "By the way, whatever happened to getting a man on the Death Star?"

"It is still being pursued," Xizor answered. He would elaborate no further and Regis didn't bother to push. "I will put out some feelers and see if anyone is willing to take up the service contract. However, it might be more prudent to accelerate the construction of our yards here."

"It might be more prudent if our military would capture some useful facilities instead of blowing them up!" Regis turned to look out the window. "There are only a handful of yards left that can handle capital ships. There are even less for building starfighters. Every time a shipyard is built, someone blows it up. Pretty soon we're going to have to take cruise ships to get to the battle."

"I'll see what I can do," Xizor said, knowing full well that at the rate of destruction of resources, there was very little that he would be able to accomplish.


	18. Interlude Profile: Leia Organa

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Interlude Profile: Leia Organa

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

She is considered to be one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy, She is well educated, an accomplished diplomat and ace pilot. She is the daughter of two powerful Sith Lords and is well on her way to becoming a full Jedi Knight. Yet, Leia Organa is one of the most complex and lonely individuals to have ever lived.

When Padme Amidala was mortally wounded at the Battle of Koriban, General Bail Organa had her transported immediately to his flagship's medical facilities. Despite the fact she was turning to the Dark Side of the Force and married to Darth Vader, Organa was madly in love with Padme and was desperate to find some way to redeem her. His physicians informed him that Padme was pregnant with twins and that they had to be removed from her if she were to live. Seeing an opportunity, he had the female child removed from the mother in secret and immediately transported to his home planet of Alderaan.

Previously, Mon Mothma of Chandrilla had rescued the Jedi child of Lyndia Jade by stating it was her own child. Bail enlisted his friend's help and together they fueled a rumor that Leia was their child by an illicit affair. The Emperor, thinking that he could use such a scandal to keep the liberal Mothma and Organa in line, did not bother to question the legitimacy of their claim. Thus, Leia was raised in the royal palace of Alderaan while their mother, who became the Dark Lady of the Sith Darth Deceptra, raised her twin brother, Luke.

For the most part, Leia's life was relatively quiet for the first decade. As she started to reach adolescence her Force abilities began to manifest. She became an accomplished pilot, a skill she inherited from her father, but she also had her mother's political savvy. Her political leanings were liberal and so she never bothered to learn any martial skills and her father, wary of informing her of her heritage, tried to goad her into politics. At 12, she beat Luke Skywalker in a podrace; at seventeen, she was elected to the Imperial senate.

The Emperor, who warned Bail Organa to rein his daughter in before she got in serious trouble, did not appreciate her leftist views. Bail tried in vain to get his daughter to calm her rhetoric, but she honestly believed that by rallying the people of the Empire, they could overthrow the Emperor by political means and re-establish the Republic. All of that changed when Garm Bel Iblis sent Dash Rendar and Hal Horn to retrieve Leia. During the Clone Wars, Bel Iblis had made a deal with Jedi Master Quinlan Vos. The specifics of this deal were that when Leia became of age, she would be sent to Dagobah to train in the Jedi ways. Bail was more than happy to oblige.

Though she did not want to go, she acquiesced to her father after he explained her true identity. A strong sense of duty compelled Leia to travel to the swamp world and meet the aging Jedi master. During the trip there, she became acquainted with Hal Horn's son Corran, who was only a few years older than Leia. There was an immediate attraction between the two of them, but Leia also found herself drawn to the rough and brash Dash Rendar. Both men held qualities that intrigued her and for the first time in her life, she was not sure of what she was supposed to do.

Very shortly after she left Alderaan, Leia's foster father was murdered by Darth Deceptra who was investigating the rebellion. Through interrogation, Deceptra learned that Leia was her daughter and in a rage, murdered Bail Organa and then ordered the execution of the entire Alderaanian royal family before placing the planet under interdiction.

On Dagobah, Leia began to train with Corran, who was found to be a Force-talented individual as well, and their friendship started to quickly become more. She could not deny her strong attraction to the straight-arrow, no nonsense former CorSec agent, but again, a small part of her was deeply attracted to the more dark character of Dash Rendar. All of this tension was interrupted when Ferrin and Kyp Durron arrived on Dagobah to raise a Jedi army.

Leia immediately sensed that Kyp had more than a passing attraction to her and while she did not do anything to encourage his feelings, she never did anything to stop them either. In later years, Kyp and Corran would find themselves battling for her affections; a fight that Corran would eventually win.

When Leia found out what had happened to her foster-father, she immediately challenged Darth Deceptra to a duel. They agreed to meet on Tatooine in order to settle their differences. Deceptra believed Leia was not capable of deception and accepted, not knowing that her daughter intended to bring both Ferrin and Kyp Durron along as back up. The resulting battle ended the threat of Darth Deceptra once and for all and all four returned to Dagobah.

Originally, the newly reformed Padme Amidala was supposed to train Leia but when the New Republic was established, the leaders of the fledgling government demanded that Padme be made to stand trial for her crimes. In a move that would have been incomprehensible in the past, Jedi Master Quinlan Vos agreed to allow Kyp Durron to take both Corran and Leia on as his padawan learners. His reasoning was that there were not enough Jedi to protect the New Republic and that extreme times required extreme measures.

Over the next five years, Leia and Corran trained under their younger master and they were involved in several adventures. During this time it has been speculated that Leia and Kyp were romantically involved at least once but that ended when Corran proposed to Leia. In the old Jedi Order, marriage was generally frowned upon, but it appears that Quinlan Vos actually encouraged Leia to marry. The thinking by many outside the Jedi community is that it was the quickest way to get her pregnant and to produce Jedi children. All of the efforts of the Jedi to track down other Force-talented persons had failed, as if someone was always one step ahead of them.

Leia is now in a most difficult position. She now realizes that she is not as in love with Corran as she is with her and she has been plagued with dark fantasies of being with Dash Rendar. She is completely unaware that it is her twin brother, Luke, who is behind this. He is bent on destroying her life slowly and only time will tell of he is successful. 


	19. Chapter 14

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 14

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

General-Baron Soontir Fel looked at the tactical screen and shook his head, not believing the size of the strike force that was now under his command. It had started with the ship of his personal armada, a four-ship fleet that was meant to engage in special military operations. In plain-speak that meant the dirty jobs the intelligence corps would normally handle, but weren't meant to be secret. For example, General Xizor could handle the destruction of an Imperial weapons depot discreetly for psychological effect against the enemy. Fel could also destroy it in a public display for propaganda.

When he and his comrades had hatched the plan to try and liberate Corellia, he had expected maybe a few fighters and a couple of merchant ships from the Chandrillan reserves, but the sheer size of what he now commanded awed him. That was saying a lot for a man who was once responsible for the most notorious fighter squadron in the Empire.

For a few brief moments he remembered those days, back when he was a simple pilot with simple needs. A TIE fighter, a good supply officer, a trusted wingman and a loving wife. The Empire had taken all of that away. No, he corrected himself, not the Empire. Grand Moff Tarkin had taken away his fighters and his squadron. Darth Deceptra had taken away his wife and for that she needed to pay. The New Republic was never going to do that it seemed. The same cancer that had rotted the Old Republic had already started killing the newer galactic democracy.

Fel had seen what had happened to Corellia first hand and he wanted to save the planet his wife had loved so much. He also knew that only in a Corellian court was there a chance of his wife getting any justice. Now was the time to strike and now he had the weapon in which to do it.

He looked down into the pit and saw the men and women busying themselves with coordinating the hyperspace jump for the various vessels. "Quite a spread isn't it? A four course meal of liberation for our people," Wedge said as he stepped up behind his brother-in-law. Fel turned to see the other general clad in his X-Wing flight suit. Rogue Squadron was onboard but there was a chance that some of the other squadrons stationed on Tatooine proper might come after them if they ever figured out what was going on.

Outside their vessel, almost fifty capital class warships were assembled. Many were Corellian vessels that had abandoned their posts throughout the New Republic. There were also several Chandrillan ships and even a few Sullustian privateers. The word had been put out and the universe had responded.

But that wasn't all that they had either as Wedge was quick to point out. "We've got several cargo haulers that have already taken up position near Commenor. They're all under various governmental identities." He took a quick glance at the communications station. Several auxiliary lines were strung from the console; a spider web of deception as technicians fielded calls for clarification of orders from Fleet Command. 

Fel pointed to the giant tactical map at three silver dots. "Those are MC-80 cruisers under Ackbar's cousin's command and he isn't too damn happy. I tried to pull rank on him and he's been on the horn to old fish-head himself." Fel shook his head. He did not relish a confrontation with the New Republic forces.

It wasn't that he was particularly loyal to the New Republic, but he had learned to respect many of the officers that served in its military. It was the politicians he had disagreement with. As he often said, you can't prosecute a successful war with a pacifist in charge. The Mon Calamarians, the aliens that controlled the massive MC class star cruisers, were not disinclined to fighting and they could be a real pain when they wanted.

"I'd be more worried about the rest of the fleet; there's a strike force only a jump away," Wedge reminded him. "Have you seen Garm?"

Fel tapped the screen on a dot designated Alpha Primary. It was Garm Bel Iblis' personal shuttle. The senator from Corellia was flying up from the surface of the tropical planet with several A-Wing fighters as escorts. Fel wondered if his chosen leader had told Chief of State Organa of his intentions to break away from the Republic. He doubted it, as it would serve no real purpose,

Still, someone down on the planet had to know what was going on. "I don't like this," Wedge said, rubbing his chin. "It's like we're getting away with something…"

"And we shouldn't be?" Fel finished. He nodded his agreement and accepted a report that several of the smaller vessels had jumped into hyperspace per the plan. Most of those vessels were only supposed to be passing through anyway according to their forged flight plans. "It's the Chandrillans I'm most worried about. Most of them are supposed to be stationed at jump point Omega." Omega was the code name given to a secret rallying point that the New Republic kept for a small strike force of cruisers and frigates. From that point, the strike force could hit Imperial Center within ten standard minutes.

When the New Republic had been established it was decided by the member states that the recapture of Coruscant/Imperial Center was to be of the highest priority. Unfortunately for the former Rebel Alliance that was more of a dream than a reality. Lord Ravage was no fool and he had kept a huge portion of the Imperial fleet stationed around the crown jewel of the New Order, preventing any worthwhile attack.

The New Republic had been too busy fighting against the Confederacy, to be sure, in the outlying regions of the galaxy. The liberal-minded sensibilities of most of the Republic Senate pushed the military arm to try and liberate planets that were full of the "meek and defenseless" while strategic worlds such as Mon Calamari and Corellia were left to rot under the control of power mad dictators. It had created a lethargy in the military and had also created the dividing line between the hawks and doves in the Republic.

Straddling the fence were the Mon Cals and their giant warships. They wanted to liberate their planet but they also refused to turn their backs on any in need. If push came to shove out here, Fel knew the Mon Cals would not hesitate to try and stop him.

And that brought up the question of the legality of such a move. Could a government that was formed based upon rebellion suppress one of its own? Fel had pondered that question several times in the past five years since he had thrown his lot in with the rebels. Wedge seemed to sense what he was thinking and smiled. "They will come after us."

Fel shook his head. "If we can get out of here, then there is really nothing they can do. Nobody knows where the Death Star is and they can't afford to let their guard down. Besides, they still have plenty of other ships."

Wedge gave him a frown and went to reply when one of the technicians yelled out. "General, we have a problem!"

Fel and Wedge quickly moved over to the mess that was the comms station and stepped up to the tech. He was a young man but it was obvious by the serious look in his eyes and the blaster strapped to his side he was Corellian through and through. "It's the _Remembrance of Chandrilla_, sir; it's a frigate that was supposed to meet up with Ackbar's fleet at Kasshyk. Apparently the admiral is contacting the vessel personally and he ain't too happy."

The technician moved over to the console and pushed a button to allow the transmission to come over the speaker embedded there. There was some static and then the voice of Admiral Ackbar could be heard. By his tone it was obvious that he was upset. "…do not care about your need for leave and relaxation, commander; I want you to make stars to the rally point immediately!"

The voice that responded was cool and calm. "With all due respect, Admiral, this is my ship and it flies under the flag of Chandrilla. I serve the New Republic out of respect for the ideals of our dead president but that does not mean you are over me."

There was a small choking sound before the Mon Calamarian responded. "I do not have time for this ridiculous debate! The status of all vessels and forces under the banner of Chandrilla was decided by the senate two years ago…"

"And who represented Chandrilla in those talks, Admiral?"

Fel muted the speaker and thanked the tech. He and Wedge moved out of earshot. "I didn't realize that the anger of the Chandrillans ran so deep. I knew they were upset…"

"They wanted the New Republic to go after the Death Star and drag Tarkin into a court; we want to free our home system. I understand them," Wedge replied. 

"We've got movement on those star cruisers," the weapons officer called out and both Fel and Wedge turned to the tactical screen. 

"They've been ordered to take the _Remembrance of Chandrilla_ under tow," the tech they had spoken with added.

"Where is Senator Bil Iblis at?" Fel asked.

Wedge slapped him on the shoulder as someone checked. The dots were now converging together as ships moved into tighter formation and they couldn't see the shuttle. "I'm going out there; something tells me that its about to get dicey around here."

"Mon Cal ships are launching B-Wings with orders to disable the _Remembrance_ and the _Mon Mothma_!"

"We've picked up an Interdictor Cruiser leaving its docking point at Golan 12!"

"Beige and Purple Squadrons have been activated from the southern pole of the planet!"

"Ion cannons powering up in the eastern quadrant!"

Fel listened to it all and realized what was going on. Ackbar had guessed what was happening. One ship captain being disorderly was bad, two was mutiny. Obviously he had contacted the _Mon Mothma_, another frigate under Chandrillan control and had been rebuked. "General Fel, General Xizor is on line to speak with you."

"General, Fleet Command wants to speak with you!"

"Chief of State Regis is waiting, sir!" 

Fel clenched his teeth and turned to the commanding officer of the ship. "Get us out of here as soon as the senator is on board…"

"I'm already here," the baritone voice of Garm Bel Iblis announced as he entered the bridge. He was dressed in the flight suit of an A-Wing jockey. Apparently the shuttle had bee a ruse, as it still had not docked with the ship. "Give my attendants time to get aboard if you please, General," he said with a smile as he handed his helmet and gloves to a waiting yeoman. 

Fel moved over and accepted a handshake. "It's bad, sir; we've been found out."

"Did Celchu come through with the battle droids?"

Fel nodded. "Yes and he's down in the secondary bridge using the encrypted line to speak with the freighters carrying them. I don't know how he did it…an Alderaanian having access to war materials?" He dropped his hand. "We owe him."

Bel Iblis gave the young general a look that made Fel think he had misspoken. "Perhaps…but we'll see," he replied as he turned to walk over to the comms station. He ordered the technicians to patch him into the general broadcast frequency. He waited patiently as they complied with his orders.

Outside the ship, several of the larger vessels were charging up their shields and ion cannons in preparation for the coming defensive move by the New Republic. Nobody wanted to shoot but if they had to, they wanted to disable, not kill. Fel wiped the sweat from his brow and was surprised to see how nervous he had become and how envious he was of his brother-in-law. Wedge was already out there in his fighter, taking his destiny in his own hands while Fel was relegated to playing attaché to Garm Bel Iblis.

Fel was a military man, though, and he understood that egos had no place in the upper echelons. Personality and charisma got you the job; the willingness to stand back and let others carry out your orders is what defined a true leader. Like it or not, the former Hero of the Empire was now one of the men he used to get mad at.

Someone in the background requested permission to launch the alert ten fighters just as Bel Iblis was given the thumb's up to proceed. The senator from Corellia, who had served in the congresses of the Old Republic, the Empire and the New Republic, cleared his throat.

"Citizens of the New Republic, brother and sister Corellians, trusted Chandrillan allies and to all other who can hear this message, let me first say that it is not our intention to wage war upon the government of the New Republic. We see the Republic as a future friend and a party in a peace that we hope will one day envelope the whole of the known galaxy.

"For five years the Republic flag has waved over the jungles of Tatooine. For five years we the displaced citizens of occupied Corellia have been asked to wait until the time is right to strike. For five years we have endured the horrible fears that permeate our minds as we imagine the fate of loved ones on our home planet. For five years, Corellia has suffered under the rule of the Tarkin Confederacy."

He paused and Fel noted how quiet the bridge had become. Even the pilots on patrol stopped broadcasting. "We were asked to wait and we did. We waited and the main threat was miraculously removed. The Death Star has left Corellia; the Tarkinists have made a fatal mistake and still we are asked to wait. Let me make one thing perfectly clear: we will wait no longer."

There was a cheer raised up by the crewmen and even Fel found himself wanting to pump a fist in the air. Bel Iblis continued without waiting for the shouting to die down. "We are not going to allow our destiny to be decided by pacifists. We are Corellians, we do not back down from a fight. We aided the New Republic when it asked and the New Republic turned its back on us in our time of need."

He paused and cleared his throat again, wanting to make sure his voice remained true and strong. "The free peoples of Corellia are therefore severing their ties with the New Republic as we go home to pursue the most noble of goals: freedom. And I ask you captains of the vessels now approaching the Corellian fleet; can you live with yourselves if you prevent us from freeing our people? I wonder what despots like Lord Ravage and Daala would think of your actions."

The Mon Calamari ships did not slow down but it was obvious that the Interdictor cruiser was pausing. The fleet wasted no time in putting more distance between themselves and the gravity well projectors on the other ship. Interdictor's were especially favored by the New Order because it normally allowed them to prevent the escape of vessels and allowed them to capture them intact. 

Bel Iblis continued his speech, drawing references from several historical rebellions against oppression and Fel was surprised to see how well it was working. Then he thought about; maybe there were more people sympathetic to their cause in the New Republic than he had originally thought. Had he become so filled with hatred that he was becoming blind to the friends he could have had.

He considered Tycho Celchu. The man was from Alderaan but was willing to risk everything to help his people win back their freedom. Xizor, the Falleen general, could have found out what they were doing but he hadn't pushed the issue. Perhaps he understood that if there was ever going to be a true melding of the Corellian people into the New Republic, the Corellia had to be free.

"Captain, get us out of here now, he can't keep that up forever," Fel whispered.

The captain gave him a lopsided, cocky grin and Fel was suddenly reminded of an old friend, Han Solo. The man had been with him and Luke Skywalker on the Death Star when Tarkin had initially rebelled against the rule of the Emperor. Han had been a Corellian like him and he wondered what the spirited young officer would have thought of all of this. He had died helping Fel and Luke escape. "Don't worry, sir; by the time they get those projectors up we'll be long gone." He then nodded to Bel Iblis who was now practically in a lather as worked to rally the troops. "And don't worry about the senator, he can do that all day long if need be."

Fel noted the looks on the faces of the crewmen, technicians and officers. He thought that he could inspire! He was nothing compared to Bel Iblis and Fel remembered that it was the man's mastery of history and the truth that had caused him to follow his lead. He was about to agree when one of the techs monitoring the snubfighter communications stood up. "General, sir; we have a request coming in…I think."

Fel came over to where the tech was and picked up a spare set of headphones. Plugging them in he immediately heard Wedge arguing with another pilot. 

"…Appreciate the offer, but really, we don't…"

"Help you...yub yub…me fight…cum chaka…we fight with you…yub!"

Fel looked down to see that the other signal was coming from the flight leader of Endor Flight One. He smiled as he considered the offer of aid. Endor was a planet where the second Death Star had been built. When it was destroyed, pieces of it fell onto one of its moons that was home to a semi-intelligent race of half-meter tall furballs called Ewoks. 

The moon, also called Endor, was accepted into the New Republic only because the charter that had been approved allowed any group of people or planetary government join provided they could prove they had no ill-intentions towards the Republic. Considered something of a joke, both the Tarkin Confederation and the New Order had allowed the measure to go through even though the planet was too far out to be of any strategic value. Instead, the other governments had routinely, up until a year before, had sent small attack parties in to raid the moon. 

This had caused the New Republic to divert much needed resources to the defense of a member state. Finally, Admiral Ackbar had decided it would be better to train the more intelligent Ewoks to defend themselves. Equipped with Y-Wing fighters and a variety of other craft, the Ewoks had created a semi-functional fighter force. Flight One had been on Tatooine to receive advanced bomber training.

The word was that they managed to destroy several brothels, supply depots and at least two herds of banthas before they were grounded. "No wonder they want to come with us."

The ship's captain came up behind him. "We can't take them on now, but if we give them the hyperspace coordinates, they can jump with us. One of the escort carriers can then accommodate them."

"Corellia One, this is Rogue One, please advise," Wedge asked. The Y-Wings were still approaching the fleet.

"Let them through, Rogue One," Fel replied with a grin. He could imagine his brother-in-law squirming in his cockpit. 

"Repeat that last order? It sounded like you were talking out your…"

"Enough, Rogue One," Fel said as he cut the other general off. "You and the Rogues need to be watching out for the other forces."

"Corellia One, this is Rogue Four, they're not doing anything except flying in circles. Some have turned back to escort the MC's."

"Roger that. Just make sure you make your jump."

Fel put the headphones down and went back to the observation platform where he was joined by the captain. Bel Iblis was now practically singing the Corellian national anthem and when Fel looked at him, he got a wink in reply to his look. Bel Iblis was playing the entire situation up and enjoying every minute of it. 

"Freedom without sacrifice is not freedom earned, it is freedom given and whatever is given can be taken away. We, the people of Corellia, we will earn our freedom through blood, sweat and toil." He paused one last time. "When next I speak to you, it will be from the surface of my home planet."

The bridge was suddenly alive with cheers, back slapping and promises of doom and punishment for the Tarkinists on Corellia. And for the first time in a long time, longer than he could ever remember, he honestly believed that they could pull it off. 


	20. Chapter 15

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 15

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Had Leia not been caught up in the wave of emotions that were tearing through her mind, she might have sensed what was going on around her. Her brother's manipulations of the Dark Side, something he had practiced a full decade before Leia ever discovered the truth about her heritage, was also adding to the burden. The Dark Side was partially based upon deception; it allowed its users to manipulate the perceptions of others. 

Fear and anger aided this because the imagination worked harder in these states. The imagination was the fuel for the fires of the Dark Side and Luke Skywalker was surprised at how fruitful Leia's mind had been when he first made contact with it. He had found so many fears, so many uncertainties that he had not known where to start. 

Her two largest worries appeared to be (1) becoming like her mother and (2) marrying the right person for the wrong reason. It was Luke's intention to bring her to the Dark Side, to make her exactly like her mother. That would break the heart of the now reformed Padme Amidala and that would bring Luke enough pleasure to last a lifetime.

In order to effect her transformation from goody-goody Jedi padawan to servant of darkness he had to concentrate on her other fear, that uncertainty that always developed when facing any life-altering decision. He had done nothing really, merely tapped into her brain and brought forth her deepest fantasies. Everyone had fantasies but most had the good sense not to act upon them. 

Luke halted in the passageway that led to the private hanger reserved for only the highest of Corporate Sector operative on Bespin. That would include, according to the information given to them by the Sector-Admiral, the modified freighter _Outrider_ and the yacht _Lady Luck_. He reached out with the Force and could sense the flurry of activity occurring in the hanger bay. Both ships were preparing for launch, Luke could tell, because their respective owners, Dash Rendar and Lando Calrissian, were jittery. Their emotions played out in the Force as if they were bad music on giant speakers.

The Jedi were a different matter. Luke already sensed the loss of his party sent to investigate the Mandalorian ship. Kyp Durron had been involved in that and while duty might have demanded that Luke pursue the most powerful of the three, personal vengeance dictated his actions now. A Sith did not always adhere to duty when there was personal emotional profit involved.

The calm thoughts of Corran Horn were disturbing. His mind was a steel trap of military tactics and law enforcement information. Were he not a Jedi, Luke had no doubt he would be a top officer in the New Republic military. There was also a hint of anxiety regarding something with the Force; perhaps a new talent learned? Corellian Jedi, according the records that Luke was able to view on Imperial Center, were the oddest of the bunch that was for sure. No fewer than one hundred texts had been penned in the time of the Old Republic dedicated to the study of Corellian Jedi and why their Force talents manifested so strangely. There were no definitive answers.

Luke could not discern what the talent, if there was one, could be. For all the young Sith knew, Corran Horn was one of those Jedi that liked to contemplate the Force on a never-ending basis. He told his remaining men to fan out ahead of him, creating a human corridor for him to go down as he approached the hanger doors.

He turned his attention as he slowly made his way towards the end of the passage to his sister. He caught the brief sense of flirtation and a sudden welling up of sexual desire within her. She wanted Dash Rendar, or at least some roguish type, and it was causing to push all thoughts of sweet Corran Horn out of her mind. He laughed inwardly; how alike he and his sister were. Luke saw himself getting married one day if only to produce a legitimate heir. He never saw himself giving up his hundreds of lovers, though. It was one thing to acknowledge the womb with legs that carried your legacy; it was another to be so ignorant as to claim you could love someone enough to spend your life with them.

But hadn't his father loved his mother in that way? His father had been foolish not to realize that Darth Deceptra/Padme Amidala was unworthy of such attention. Like any female, she was weak on her own, unable to define herself without a man to provide her with some purpose.

Luke stopped before the doors and paused, sensing the history of the moment. His father's killer, Darth Maul, had stood like this on Naboo, Luke's mother's home world, and prepared to fight both Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. He had won that duel, defeating both men and setting the course for Anakin Skywalker's training in the ways of the Sith. How different the galaxy would have been if Darth Maul would have lost, Luke considered. No doubt Anakin would have become a great Jedi.

Luke's stomach turned at the thought.

Corran suddenly looked up. "We've got trouble."

Lando looked over at the younger man in the co-pilot's seat and asked what was wrong. Corran looked at him and told him to continue the start-up procedure. He got out of the seat and ran back to the hatch. Checking his lightsaber, he opened the door and stepped down into the hanger bay.

He tried to reach out to Leia and got back the same fuzziness he often got from her. She had been so distant lately, but he supposed it was nerves due to their engagement. He had focused his fears inside, turning them into a desire to perform well on their first solo mission, no matter how mundane it appeared to be.

The _Outrider_ was on the other side of the hanger bay and he did not dare use his communicator. Lando was convinced, just as Dash was, that they had been compromised by the Sector-Admiral. Many were the credits that the Empire was willing to pour out to capture Jedi and even the most professional of military men.

He used the Force to get a sense of the general area and he got a feeling of mocking hatred, the sort of emotions a bully had when stalking a weaker child. Corran had taken down many bullies in his day and today seemed just as good a day as any to face the local toughs. He picked up nothing overly unusual in the Force, but he still had a feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the same "sixth sense" that his father had, something that all CorSec members had, regardless of age or experience. You just knew when trouble was coming.

Corran pulled his lightsaber off of his belt and kept his sword arm loose. He approached the massive doors that led into the passageway that would take people into Cloud City proper. This particular hanger bay had once been reserved for large cargo haulers, but now it served as a private hideaway for the most important vessels on Bespin.

The Jedi turned back towards the _Outrider_ and could have sworn he heard a moan of ecstasy, but knew that was impossible. Leia lived him and Dash was one of his best friends.

Leia reached up and put her hands on Dash's damp chest and pushed. It was not in an attempt to get him off of her, but to get just a little more physical contact. As they continued their lovemaking, she rolled her head and smiled an evil smile.

Again Corran sensed something was wrong, as if he were in the middle of a puppet show and someone was yanking his strings. He saw that the engines on the _Lady Luck_ were giving off the little waves of heat, distorting the air. The _Outrider _was warmed as well and when he looked at it, his vision started to waver. It was almost as if everything was an illusion.

He stepped towards the freighter, determined to satisfy his curiosity when the hanger bay door started to open. Corran whirled just as the doors lifted to reveal a pair of black boots. His lightsaber came to life, its blue blade singing a song of warning as he brought it up high over his shoulder,

When the door finally was open fully, Corran saw Luke Skywalker standing there, waving his crimson blade. Several civilian-clothed stormtroopers moved past Luke and started to file into the hanger bay. "Lando! Get out of here!" Corran called.

Luke somersaulted forward, his blade coming down in a strike meant to cleave Corran in half, but the young Jedi was not so easily beaten. He blocked the strike and spun to put a sidekick to Luke's stomach. The Dark Lord stumbled back, but not far enough. He used his blade to try and behead Corran and would have had Corran not ducked.

Lando, in the cockpit of the _Lady Luck_ hit a button and several droid-brain controlled lasers popped out from secret hatches under the yacht. The weapons were set up to fire at anyone approaching the vessel since Lando could see Corran was busy. "Damn it, kid, you can't fight him!" Lando swore. He was half-tempted to strap on his blaster and go out there to help, but he knew that if they needed to get out of there quick, then he needed to be at the controls.

There was one thing he could do. "Dash, we've got trouble!" he said on the private line between the ships. 

There was no reply for several seconds and Lando heard the first few shots from his lasers and the small graphic for his shielding showed minor hits to his engine area. There was no way that their small hand-held weapons could damage his ship, so he ignored them. If they managed to get by the lasers and were able to get to the hatch, Lando had an IG series assassin droid waiting to welcome them. He didn't want to send it out just yet; it was expensive after all. 

"Dash!" Lando called out as Corran went flying across the hanger bay to slide into a crate of spare parts. "Damn!"

Luke Skywalker strode across the distance between himself and Corran. "You are no match for me boy."

Corran wiped the blood from his mouth, trying to keep his cool. "You better check again, little man. I'm the grown up here."

Luke laughed. "Man enough for my dear sister? I think not." He held his hand out and black lightning shot from his fingers to envelope Corran. The young Jedi had not been ready for the attack, but the truth was that he had very little experience in fighting Dark Lords. He tried to push past the pain, tried to use his newfound power to put some sort of image in Luke's brain, but he couldn't concentrate.

"Damn it, Dash!" Lando yelled, jumping out of the pilot's chair and grabbing an Imperial issue blaster. He ran up to his droid. "Follow me," he said before stepping outside. He was immediately assailed by laser fire from the stormtroopers that had managed to survive the laser attack. Lando saw that two of his custom mounts had been shot out but that was expected when dealing with crack Imperial troops.

Lando directed his assassin droid to take out the men in front of them, which it did with cold efficiency, while he ran for the cover of the _Outrider's_ landing gear. A stray shot burned through his signature cape and grazed his arm, but he felt nothing as he saw Corran writhing in pain. Lando, a good shot in his younger days and a better shot after he had been drinking for a while, drew down on Luke and screamed.

"Skywalker!"

Luke whirled around, bringing his palm up as Lando fired. Three shots were deflected by Luke's bare hand. Lando dropped his blaster, his mouth agape as Luke moved his arm in a sweeping motion. An invisible wall of Force struck Lando and sent him flying into the hull of the _Outrider_. Lando fell to the deck with a loud thunk.

Corran struggled up and called his lightsaber to his hand from across the bay. Luke jumped up to avoid being tripped by it, giving a little laugh as he did so. In the same motion, he performed an acrobatic jump to the left and missed being struck in the back. Corran moved and swung again and again, but Luke was only toying with him. The Jedi knew he was loosing control and he tried to reach down and find some center. 

He tried to think of Leia and Luke stopped. His face was alive with delight as he contemplated what Corran was doing. "Would you like to get my dear sister out here? Hmmmm, I wonder what she's doing?"

Luke used the Force and opened a link between Corran and Leia. For the first time since he found he was a Jedi, Corran experienced the Force like a true Jedi. The whole world became something alien and he knew this was how the most powerful of Jedi Knights saw the galaxy. What did that say about him?

Then something entered his brain. Brief flashes of sensation that he had never felt before. He smelled sweat and a musky odor that seemed so out of place in this battle. The horror of what he was experiencing dawned on him even as Luke cackled like a witch. "Seems my sister is busy with a real man," he said as he cut the link. 

Holding his fist out, Luke grabbed Corran through the Force. The stunned Jedi dropped his lightsaber and became consumed by his conflicting emotions. Luke lifted him high into the air, considering dropping him and letting him explode into a puddle of blood and gore. Lord Ravage wanted Jedi to turn, though, and besides, Luke still had some plans for his sister. 

Corran felt his throat close and he struggled to breathe, only a part of him wanted to stop. His own tears were choking him as the deep dagger of betrayal penetrated his heart. As blackness closed in around him, Luke shook his head. "Now, you feel my pain," he whispered.

"Corran!" Leia called out as she finished buttoning her flight suit. Her mind was awash with sensations and feelings that she could not sort out. Next to her, Dash was hurriedly slapping a fresh power pack into his blaster. He looked at her, his face betraying the feelings he was now experiencing. 

Leia grabbed her lightsaber and ran towards the ramp that was slowly lowering onto the hanger bay floor. Corran was right behind her and the two of them stepped out into a scene of carnage. The brilliant purple skies of Bespin were above them and bodies were strewn below. Lando and Corran both were in crumpled heaps on the floor and Luke's men were finally rallying to the point they could concentrate their fire on an assassin droid that was attacking them.

"My sister!" Luke said with genuine delight. Leia stopped and took him in. She had not been this close to him in almost a decade, ever since she won that single podrace against him. He looked very much like their father, except for the sneer on his face. Luke radiated hate and anger and it was like someone had turned on a light for her. 

"You! You're the one who's done this to me!" she screamed, igniting her lightsaber.

Luke could feel the hot rage coming off of her and he actually sniffed the air. It was a pleasant aroma of pure fury. He brought his own lightsaber up and stuck out his free hand. He gestured for her to come closer. Dash reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "No," he said. "We need to get out of here!"

The assassin droid finally went down after a coordinated strike of thermal detonators and one heavy blaster. The remaining stormtroopers moved in, some going aboard the _Lady Luck_, others scrambling to provide cover for their master. Dash turned and dropped one trooper with a shot to the head and received tow shots to his thighs in return. In an agony that Leia felt through the Force, Dash went down onto the ramp and rolled down towards the hanger bay floor.

"It seems we are all alone, my sister," Luke said, gesturing again. "Come, show me if you are worthy of our mother's attention."

"You're just jealous she loves me more," Leia said out of spite. She rushed Luke and he, enraged at the comment, ran towards her. They met in the middle as their weapons clashed and arced. The sound was like small thunderclaps as Leia used every move and trick she had been taught. Luke countered each strike and was finally able to start throwing some of his own attacks at her.

He gauged her defense and found it lacking. "Too much time on your back and not enough in practice I see," he joked.

She spit at him. "You put these thoughts in my head!" she snarled as she cut low.

He back flipped out of the way and parried another swipe at his midsection. "You give me too much credit, sibling. I only brought out your inner desires. It was so easy."  He pushed out with the Force and she lost the grip on her lightsaber. "You're such a slut."

She called the weapon back to her hand, but at the last moment ducked and let it sail past. In mid-flight she used the Force to grab it and ignite it. Centimeters before it struck Luke in the face, he grabbed it in with the Force as well and easily turned it away. The weapon deactivated and fell to the floor. Luke then pushed it with a thought out of the hanger bay and into the sky below the floating city.

"And so it ends," Luke said in triumph as he watched his men collect Lando and Dash. "What to do with all of you now?" 

Leia moved to get up and a trooper shot her in the back with a stun setting. She fell forward immediately. Luke stepped over to her and looked down. She moaned slightly and he put a boot on her exposed hand. She gave a small cry as he pressed down until he heard the satisfying crunch of bone.

Leia looked up through tear-filled eyes. "Why?"

"Because I serve the Dark Side, sister dear. You can beat me; all you have to do is give in to the hate that is filling your heart right now. Than anger will give you power in the Force and you will be able to cut me down." He waited for her to reply and she just dropped her head to the cold floor.

"You are pathetic," he said as watched Dash and Lando being dropped down next to Corran. "Isn't it enough that I got you to betray your only true love?" He laughed at the thought. "You really could do much better."

Leia again struggled to get up and Luke turned around and marched over to the three men his own guards had captured. He clipped his lightsaber to his belt and looked to the senior man still alive. "Get Fresca to prepare our passage out of here immediately. I want some more troops down here as well. I'm not taking any chances with my sister."

The man, knowing that carrying out the orders would greatly extend his life, left without a remark. Luke looked into the sky and closed his eyes. His mind reached out beyond the confines of Bespin and into the space surrounding the gas planet.

He sensed a change in the mood in the Sector-Admiral; apparently he was playing his hand a little too much and Luke could read the thoughts of the other senior officers on his vessel. He also picked up the scattered thoughts of combat and he guessed that his armada was engaging the Mandalorian vessel. 

"Must have been Jango Fett," Luke murmured. He had half-guessed that it was his ship; it was famous in the Old Republic. He then sensed something else, something powerful in the Force and he realized that Kyp Durron was there as well. A bounty hunter and a Jedi; he wondered what they were up to. Obviously it was important if Durron had left his students here. 

He would have to send someone after them to see what was going on. 

"Sister, dear," Luke called as he turned around. Two troopers moved to go and lift her up by her armpits. One of them picked her head up by the hair so she could face her brother. "I don't think you're angry enough, I think you're holding it in. I suppose if I was a big strong Corellian you'd be pulling that flight suit off…"

"Bas…bastard!" Leia managed to get out as feeling returned to her lips.

"Takes one to know one, bitch," Luke said as he slowly walked back towards her. He kept his hands behind his back and his face seemed to grow darker. "You don't know the freedom of the Dark Side. Our father did. Our mother did."

"And they both rejected it!"

"They were both weak then. The Dark Side does not cater to the weak, Leia; only to the strong. I can sense it in you, you want to be strong. You're afraid that by marrying Corran, you will lose some of your individuality." He stopped in front of her, but kept his hands clasps at the small of his back. "You want the freedom I offer you. Freedom from guilt, freedom from worry."

"I will never join you," she said in a raspy voice.

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I guarantee you will hate me." He leaned in close to her face and licked a tear. "Which one?"

Repulsed, she tried to pull back, but the troopers held her in place. "What?" she asked.

"Which one dies?"

She got his meaning. "No, Luke…"

He waved a finger and the Force launched out like a battering ram, striking the nearest fallen hero and knocking him out of the hanger bay and into the open air of Bespin. 


	21. Chapter 16

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 16

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Empire. He got out of the pilot's chair and took a glance down at the chronometer; he had several hours before they would come out of hyperspace to make a course adjustment. Ippy would remain on station the entire time.

He really didn't need the droid because he had mated Vong biotechnology with the _Millennium Falcon_ years before and it could fly the course all on its own. It was something useful but also a constant reminder of what had killed his friends and mother. Still, he had often argued to his father, it proved that the weapons that the Vong had employed were not evil, only their masters. 

He made his way back to the cargo area and the small medical bed he had put in several years before. Like the ship, it incorporated Vong living technology to supplement the medical devices installed. Kyp had considered putting in a medical droid, but the ship had protested. Kyp actually spoke to the vessel through a mental bond that had nothing to do with the Force. Essentially, the ship was his third partner.

He almost called out for Leia to come and help him; Jedi healing was an important part of the training. Kyp had learned to use it at a very early age, before he could fight. Then he remembered that Leia was back on Bespin, possibly facing down Luke Skywalker. He had to trust that with Corran, Lando and Dash, she could get away. The time was coming that they would have to learn to get along without him, though he wasn't so much worried about Corran. He was a former CorSec officer, after all.

Chewbacca was there, applying a cold compress to the Jango's forehead. Kyp didn't need to tell the Wookie that the man was dying and that there was nothing that could be done. The small creature that Kyp had used to diagnose the exact damage had transmitted its report to the ship, which in turn passed it on to Kyp.

That communication had revealed so much more and Kyp found himself, suddenly, wanting to know more about the man in Mandalorian armor. "Chewbacca, there's some food in the galley, why don't you go eat?" Kyp asked as he approached. The Wookie looked at him with tired blue eyes and slowly nodded. "If anything happens, I'll yell," Kyp said. Chewbacca needed to eat; it was his only limitation Kyp guessed.

He pulled up a stool and sat down next to Jango. The man had appeared to age twenty years in the past hour since they had managed to get away from the Imperial forces. It had been far too easy and it appeared to Kyp that maybe the small fleet they had seen was more interested in Bespin than in them. A few fighters had taken some shots at them, but the majority had headed straight towards a Corporate Sector _Victory_-class star destroyer.

"I'm thirsty," Jango said from behind parched lips. His color was deathly pale and his bare chest was covered with cold sweat. Kyp reached for a small flask of water and held the bounty hunter's head up so he could drink. Barely a sip passed by Jango's lips before he started coughing.

Kyp tried to use the Force to provide some relief, but despite his weakened physical condition, Jango was still a willful man and he resisted the aid. "Never thought this would be how I'd end up," Jango remarked with a weak smile.

"Then you know?" Kyp asked. Jedi normally knew when they were about to die; it was said the Force called to them at that moment, sang a sweet song that helped them to accept the inevitable. 

Jango nodded weakly. "I just hoped I'd get that son of a bitch that killed my son," he said in a raspy voice. Kyp felt the sadness come off of the man; any time he mentioned his son his defenses fell. Kyp understood his feelings; his father got that way whenever they spoke about his mother. "Where are we headed?"

"Korriban," Kyp answered. "I'm hoping that the spirits of the ancient Dark Lords will answer my questions."

Jango laughed and it threw him into a coughing fit. "A Jedi going to ask the Sith for help?"

"The tradition is one master, one apprentice, but now there are at least two of each. That will draw power from the Dark Side," Kyp explained. Jango listened intently, his keen mind working out some sort of last, desperate plan. "If the Dark Side is too weak, then the ancients will be absorbed back into the Force. They won't like that idea at all."

"So, they'll turn on one of their own? How do you know it won't be Ravage they want to get rid of?"

Kyp shrugged. "I'll tell them its either Kunn or nobody." He sat back a little. "I'm glad I ran into you. Your story has filled in many of the holes in my own."

"You said that Kunn has raised a Dark Side army? An army of clones?" Jango asked. He coughed and Kyp grabbed a towel to wipe the blood that had come up. "Thanks, kid; you remind me a little of Boba. You try to hide it, but I can see the spirit in you."

"You loved your son very much," Kyp said.

Jango nodded. "I never had time for a wife, it was easier to just clone myself. That's what I'm trying to tell you. If Kunn has a clone army, then he could have gotten it from Kamino."

Kyp nodded and searched his memory for what he knew of the planet. The original clone army of the Old Republic had come from Kamino, allegedly requested by the Jedi Council. Ferrin Durron had deduced that it had actually been either Palpatine or Count Dooku that had arranged the deal. The clones had been a great army, soldiers of the highest caliber. Now the young Jedi understood why; they had all been clones of Jango Fett. 

"The Jedi never had a chance," he whispered.

Jango coughed again. "Damn right they didn't; neither did anyone else. But I should have known better than to get involved with a snake like Palpatine." Kyp offered him some more water, but the old bounty hunter refused. Kyp tried to comfort him again through the Force, but it was no use. Jango was going to hold onto his attitude until it had to be pried from his cold, dead hands.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Kyp asked, hoping that the answer to everything was locked within the brain of Jango.

"You know as much as I do. Kunn has been quiet for over five years now, planning his next move. He's been watching the galaxy tear itself apart, waiting for the time to spring his trap." 

Kyp furrowed his brow. "Trap?"

"When he comes, it will be like an ocean wave in the darkness," Jango said weakly. Kyp could see him through the Force and knew he was slipping away quickly. "Go to Kamino and speak with Taun We. She was my friend," he said and then a small smile crossed his lips. "Or at least as close as someone gets to being my friend."

"I don't know what to say," Kyp said. He had seen so many people die over the years, had witnessed the final moments of life that it was becoming commonplace. That bothered him more than anything else. 

"Take the ship…take it all…so long as you get my revenge for me," Jango said as he closed his eyes. The effort to keep them open was draining him. "Tell Chewie I said thanks for everything; his life debt to me is paid."

Kyp nodded and turned to call for Chewbacca as he had promised when he felt Jango's spirit star to move. Spirit was the best word to describe what it was. Most ancient Jedi texts referred to the basic component of the Force, the bioelectric field that provided animation to the flesh and made it sentient.

His head snapped back and he saw that it was too late; even the biological creatures that had been working to keep the bounty hunter alive slowed their activities and accepted the fact their duty was done. Kyp found himself staring at the body and thinking a thousand thoughts. What had this man's life been like? How many Jedi had he hunted down? Why had he hated Kyp's kind so much?

Chewbacca was next to him and gave a low rumble. Kyp assumed it was his way of saying good-bye. Kyp turned and told the Wookie everything that Jango had said, including the part about the life debt being repaid. Chewbacca was silent for a few moments and then he laid his furry hand upon the brow of the dead bounty hunter. 

Kyp waited a few moments, unsure of how to proceed. Technically, Chewbacca was a bounty hunter, one that hung out with a Mandalorian warrior. That sort of made them enemies, but when he looked into the cool blue eyes of the Wookie, he saw no malice. He didn't need the Force to figure out that Chewbacca was in this for the long haul.

"I suppose you have a problem with Malakie as well?"

Chewbacca nodded and rumbled something that Kyp could not understand. He remembered that the Vong had kept small animals that when placed in the ear allowed the wearer to translate other languages, but he didn't have one of those. "Look, I don't speak Wookie and you can't speak Basic…but maybe we can reach an agreement. I'm not out for revenge so much as I want to stop something worse than the New Order from taking over the galaxy. I know enough about your kind that revenge is something you take seriously, and I assume Malakie has hurt you greatly in some way."

Chewbacca nodded and put his arms up over his burly chest. Kyp took it as a good sign. "I need help; my padawan's are now returning to the heart of the Republic, I hope, and I'm all alone. My father believes I'm ready and maybe I am, but I have to admit that I feel a bit more secure with you here. Jedi and Mandalorians are not supposed to be friends and in another time and place, Jango and I would have fought to the death. Regardless, I know he loved his son and that is just one more reason to go after Kunn."

Kyp took a moment to look down at Jango's body, trying to draw strength from his memory. He straightened up, realizing that Wookies respected strength and a kind word as opposed to just a kind word. "I'm asking you to come with me, to stop Kunn and Malakie, and maybe even rescue my sister, Mara."

At the mention of her name, Chewbacca let loose with a long barking dialogue where he tried to explain how he had been her bodyguard at one time and how he was convinced she was under Malakie's influence. Kyp held up a hand to get him to stop. "I don't understand!" he said with a smile. "I've spoken with Talon Karrde about her and I guess you're the same Chewbacca from Yavin 4." Chewbacca nodded and slapped a big paw onto Kyp's shoulder. 

"I'll take that as a yes?" he asked, wincing in pain.

Chewbacca nodded one final time and then moved towards the cockpit. Kyp wondered what he was doing when he heard Ippy starting to complain. "Listen here you throwback to the mammalian dark ages, I'm the damn co-pilot! You want a droid to push around, go play with the prissy in your own ship!"

There was the sound of metal tearing and Ippy's right arm came flying out of the cockpit. "So what?" the droid barked back. Five minutes later, Kyp was smiling as he pulled the parts of his droid companion together and put them into a storage locker. Ippy's vocal programming had bitten off more than he could handle this time. He'd put him back together later.

Climbing into the pilot's seat, Kyp watched in amazement as Chewbacca's nimble hands moved over all of the controls, adjusting the sensors and whatnot as the _Falcon_ moved through hyperspace. "Do you want to bury Jango on Korriban?" Kyp asked. He was unsure of what the proper disposal of a Mandalorian was. Chewbacca nodded and pointed to the chronometer.

"How'd you get the speed up so much so fast?" Kyp asked. In response he felt a sort of warmth emanate from the ship. He guessed that it was responding more to Chewbacca's warm touch than to Ippy's sarcasm. "Never mind," Kyp said as he got back up. He had to prepare Jango's body and he knew Chewbacca would keep an eye on things.

Dengar sat back in his chair, preferring to keep himself in the shadows offered by the awning of the café he was currently sipping dark caf from. The drink was strong, but he had worse when he was in the military and he liked this particular café anyway. The women here were pretty but resigned to their life of menial labor and therefore did a good job at providing service.

The café also offered Dengar the opportunity to observe the entrance to the Tarkinist spaceport that currently was being used as a ground base. In the weeks since the Death Star had left orbit (returning Corellia's sky to normal), several hundred ships had been landing. Dengar had seen several flights of TIE fighters, all models and types, but he had also seen some of the old CorSec X-Wings that had been conscripted into guarding the political prison on the other side of the planet. 

There was no way he could gain entrance onto the Death Star now. It was gone and he was glad for it. He had accepted the mission, of course, but that was because he never turned down a job. He needed money to eat on and for the drugs that kept him from going insane with pain.

There was a secondary mission, though, and he had been waiting for the chance just to get a look at the mysterious Admiral Rose that was now the military governor of Corellia. His benefactor wanted the leader of Corellia eliminated as long as they were not part of the New Republic and Dengar could guess why. With the Death Star gone, the Republic would most likely make their move. Corellia was the perfect base from which to launch a strike at Imperial Center. 

"Control Coruscant," Dengar whispered, referring to the original name of the world that was the capital of the New Order, "and you control the galaxy." It was a statement as old as the Old Republic and it was for the most part true. The New Order had suffered greatly over the past few years, but they were still a force to be reckoned with. Dengar was actually finding himself, in rare moments, thinking about who would come out on top in a two-front war between the Republic and the New Order.

A staff vehicle pulled up and Dengar glanced at his chronometer. His contact had been absolutely correct; Rose showed up every other day at the spaceport, most likely to confer with the ground squadron commanders. By all accounts, Rose was an admirable leader if not a young one. He did not possess the spineless ways of most of Tarkin's cronies, such as Kirten Loor, the head of Corellian Security, or CorSec. 

In fact he was sure that Loor was in the vehicle that pulled up and Dengar wondered if there was an extra bonus for taking out the thin Tarkinist officer. Loor could have been Tarkin's older, taller brother so much did they look alike. The door closest to Dengar opened and Loor stepped out, dressed in a black uniform with a bright red protective vest. He thought it provided extra protection. Dengar knew it just made a bigger target.

On the other side of the vehicle, where several stormtroopers in white armor were gathering, Admiral Rose stepped out. He was much younger looking in person than Dengar would have guessed, but he had killed younger. He did wonder how someone with so little age was able to garner so much experience as to be promoted to such high rank. Perhaps he was a closet-Jedi, using mind tricks to influence his career. It didn't really matter to the hunter, his mission was clear.

Now was not the time, however, because even if he killed the young admiral this moment, someone else would take his place. If, however, he were killed in a more public arena, perhaps while giving a speech, it would cause disarray and confusion within the government. Assassinations done in secret only led to a smooth transfer of power; those done in the open cause mayhem. 

And it was that sort of uncivilized terror that Dengar guessed his benefactor wanted. He had not expected to ever hear from Xizor ever again, not after he had turned in his Black Sun robes for the uniform of a New Republic general, but he supposed that even generals had problems that even a galaxy of troops could not handle.

Dengar noted the time and reached for his caf, picking up the conversation between two spacers at the next table. One of them was speaking in a hushed whisper while the other nursed a warm brew. "I tell ya, I saw it myself, a fleet of a hundred, maybe two hundred ships, all kinds…out beyond the rim."

The other pirate waved the story away and took a swig of his drink. "Bah! Old wive's tales! How'd you get out there from here?"

"I was running spice for Tarkin," the other man said. It was a secret, but not unknown to Dengar, that Tarkin had supplemented his government's income with illegal spice smuggling. Smugglers were the only people who could, outside the military, travel freely out of the sector. "It was near a planet not even marked on the charts and I ain't talkin' 'bout no Cloner's world. I 'twas another one. All those ships were in orbit…, dreadnoughts, Old Republic battle wagons, even a star destroyer or two."

"You've been smoking your own supply…"

The other man grabbed his companion's wrist. "I saw it I tell ya…all of the ships painted black as night, the sun reflecting their darkness like something…evil. I felt evil out there."

"Right," the man said, pulling his wrist away. "A black fleet just hovering around an unknown planet outside the galaxy, radiating evil." The man started to laugh and then he passed wind before getting up to relieve himself. Dengar cast an eye at the man left sitting and saw what he knew to be fear in the man's eyes.

The man kept mumbling to himself and Dengar reached up under his head wrappings and carefully adjusted the pickup on his hearing aid. The man just kept shaking his head and saying over and over the same thing.

"A dark force is rising…. a dark force is rising…" 


	22. Chapter 17

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 17

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Palleon had just started his dessert when a messenger arrived with a communication for Thrawn. He waited before sampling the spiced cake as his superior read the small datapad, thanked the messenger and told him to have his department head arrange for a command meeting in one hour. 

Thrawn hardly ever ate dessert but after receiving the message, he seemed almost animated with glee as he helped himself to a scoop of iced dairy confectionary. The flavor was Alderaanian Wealthy. "A report from our advanced TIE Interceptor scouts; the Death Star's advance forces just arrived in the Mon Calamari system and are forming up in typical fashion to engage our perimeter forces," he announced as he started to eat.

Palleon nodded and took a bite of his spice cake. "Just as you had stated they would. I never realized that Daala was so predictable. Her scores at the Academy indicated otherwise."

Thrawn's head cocked slightly and he smiled grimly. Most people found the appearance of his face in that manner unsettling. Palleon was quite used to it. "Go on, Captain; I was not aware that Grand Moff Daala was an interest of yours." 

There was a hint of sexual attraction. But Palleon mentally dismissed it. He had long sowed his wild oats. "She was commended by many of her instructors for her ability to adapt in an instant to a changing situation. I often take the time to read up on my enemy."

"What do you think changed her to make her so, as you put it, predictable?" Thrawn asked. He put the spoon into the bowl of melting dessert and settled back in his chair, going into one of his thinking modes. 

Palleon decided to rise to the challenge if only because he knew that his friend and superior enjoyed these small intellectual contests. It didn't bother Palleon that he lost them most of the time; in fact, he thought he was probably a better officer because of his exposure to Thrawn's philosophies. "Let us forget," Palleon started, "that she is a woman, a woman of great beauty mind you…"

"Why?"

Palleon carefully considered his answer before speaking. "I cannot speak for your race, but in mine, female beauty is a powerful weapon and tool. Whether that is right or wrong, I cannot say, but it did seem to entrap Tarkin of all people. As a woman, regardless of her scores at the Academy, she never would have commanded a flag position in the Imperial military."

"Doubtless because the Emperor feared strong women," Thrawn said. It was a shocking comment because Palleon had always considered the blue-skinned alien to be the Emperor's most ardent supporter. "Don't look at me that way, Captain; it is the truth. The truth is the truth no matter who it is about."

The junior man did not want to say anything more, worried that Lord Ravage had spies lurking about. He did not know how he would take to such comments about his father. "If she had been a man and allowed to progress through the normal chain, I could see where she would become complacent. Routine duty tends to create routine procedures. The fact that she has accomplished so much in the past ten years shows she has that ability to adapt quickly. Yet," he said with a small nod, "you have guessed every single move she has made since Tarkin died."

"That is because she has succumbed to the most wasteful disease that can inflict the military professional," Thrawn replied. "Ambition. Once a military officer decides that they want power, instead of serving power, as is their duty, they try to emulate the politicians they hope to replace. The military does not teach politics, it teaches power. Many would say politics equals power, but it doesn't."

Palleon did not agree and he argued that Palpatine had both, power and political savvy. Thrawn shook his head and stood up. He often liked to pace when he started lecturing. Palleon felt like he was back in the Academy himself and stopped eating his cake to listen. "Palpatine had power, power through the Force. He used that power to make political events occur, but he was not a true politician. A true political savant would find a way to get everything they wanted by not doing anything at all. For example, Garm Bel Iblis is a politician."

"He is a warrior politician…"

"So says the holodramas, but I disagree. Without the men he is able to rally behind his cause, the military men like Baron Fel and General Antilles, he is simply a man with a message. On the other hand, men like Fel and Antilles can take control of things by using the forces under their command." He paused and examined his friend's face. "Have you ever really wondered why I did not take control of the Empire when Palpatine died?"

"I have me theories. I simply assumed that you were not interested in the job."

Thrawn gave a deep laugh. "Oh, I was interested, but what purpose would it serve? If I allowed my ambition to get the best of me, then my enemies would know a weakness. Daala's ambition was evident from the moment she took Tarkin as her lover. Why would a beautiful young woman like her, as you have so rightly pointed out, want to spend her best years with a withered husk of a man?"

"Ambition?" Palleon asked.

"Yes, and it was her ambition to become ruler of the galaxy that told me how to defeat her. She has the Death Star and she will use it. A true soldier would see that the Death Star's real worth is the psychological value in deploying it."  He stopped and picked up his bowl and took a small bite. "Knowing she was going to use it, I had to ensure I gave her a target she could not resist."

"So, she has become predictable because she no longer has the soldier's mentality," Palleon said slowly, nodding his head. By the Force his commander was a master at this game. "The added bonus is that now the Corellian Sector  is undermanned and ripe for the picking."

Thrawn shook his head. "The New Order has suffered many great losses in the past five years, Captain; how would we garrison the worlds? Lord Ravage does not like to use Tarkin's heavy-handed tactics, he prefers stealth, as do I. Instead, we have left the system open for rebellion by its people."

"Then we'll have the New Republic a lot closer to Imperial Center!" Palleon said, his voice rising a little higher than he had wanted. "Forgive me, sir," he said, his eyes cast down.

"That's the reaction I would expect from most people and they would think I am being predictable, that I'm allowing some personal quest for revenge against the Tarkinists override my better judgment. Nothing could be farther from the truth." He set the bowl down again and reached for his glass of water. He took a long sip and then smiled some more. He was truly in rare form this night! "Have you not ever listened to Garm Bel Iblis and his rhetoric? He doesn't want Corellia as part of the Republic, he wants it to be neutral. Think of it, we could deny the New Republic of over 15% of its operating forces in a single stroke."

"So you would suggest to the Emperor that we sign a non-aggression pact with the Corellians?"

"Of course and given that the New Republic has done very little to help liberate the sector, I think they would be inclined to agree to one immediately, especially if we award them several contracts for building capital vessels. The former ally of our enemy can be our ally today."

Palleon tried to imagine the intricate planning that had gone into this plan and he was amazed. No wonder he had been kept out of the loop on so many things. If he had made a mistake or a blunder, then Thrawn's master plan would fail and the Empire would have suffered. "How did you know that Daala would leave only a skeleton force to watch over Corellia? That was a gamble."

Thrawn's red eyes seemed to shimmer. "I never gamble." 

"Warlord," the Tactical Officer said as he approached Thrawn and Palleon. He handed over his data pad and gave his report while Thrawn scanned it. "Our scouts indicate that the Tarkinists are sending out TIE Fighter probing flights. We have also picked up signals from the military leaders on Mon Calamari. In accordance with your instructions they are scrambling their ground forces."

Thrawn nodded and dismissed the officer. Palleon asked if he were going to sacrifice the Mon Cal defense forces for his plan to succeed. "I've taken the liberty of hiring mercenaries, not so uncommon in these days of depleted forces."

That reminded Palleon of a report he had received several days before from an Imperial message dump. "Have you heard about raids on our outlying supply depots?"

Thrawn turned slowly. "No…"

"I've gotten several reports and requests for information from various commanders. They have sent several teams to some of the depositories on the Outer Rim to pick up used equipment and have found them ransacked." He scratched his head. "I thought maybe it was part of your plan, sending derelict ships into the path of the Death Star."

"Not all of the ships mothballed there are derelict, Captain," Thrawn replied as he considered the ramifications. The Outer Rim reserves were mostly places that outdated ships, or ships so shot up they only had scrap value, were taken to. The plan was that once proper shipyard facilities were established in a discreet sector, the vessels would be towed there to be repaired or used for spare parts. Thrawn had estimated that he could outfit a fifteen-ship fleet. "What about the patrols set up to guard the facility?"

"They weren't there according to the reports." Palleon paused and tried to think of a reasonable explanation. "Maybe it was a New Republic raid."

Thrawn considered it and then considered the outfit of the New Republic forces as he knew them. Corellian and Chandrillan vessels were normally assigned to frontline sectors while Mon Calamari forces made up garrison forces. The majority of the other fleets, made up of 4 to five capital vessels, were spread out throughout the various worlds of the New Republic facing down either AFNO forces or Tarkinists.

The New Republic, like the Empire, was not above hiring mercenary forces but that would take a unit of rather large size. "Have you checked on the nearest Corporate Sector forces?"

Palleon sniffed and shook his head. "That's another thing; we got a flash message just a few hours ago that the Empire has assaulted the Bespin System."

"Under whose authority?"

"Skywalker."

Thrawn shook his head. Pulling the Corporate Sector into his war against the Tarkinist and the New Republic. If the Empire was ever going to be able to challenge the CSA, he needed his plan to work flawlessly. "What was the end result?"

"A CSA _Victory­_-class was destroyed, but that isn't the half of it. Skywalker has reported that he has Leia Organa as his prisoner." He moved a little closer to Thrawn to keep his voice from carrying. "He is still on Cloud City. If I send a priority message via the holonet it can get to him in a few hours."

Thrawn thought about it and nodded. "Also, contact Board Member Thracen Krawl of the Corporate Sector and offer to pay him whatever he wants to keep this incident quiet." Thrawn's red eyes flashed briefly, a look that Palleon knew was beyond just mild annoyance. "And inform Luke Skywalker that military decisions are mine to make."

Four standard Imperial Center hours later, Fresca received the message from Captain Palleon of Warlord Thrawn's fleet. She read it briefly and then decided to throw it away. Luke had betrayed her by causing her to relive one of the most horrible events of her life. He had taken pleasure in her pain and when she had seen the look in his eyes, she had realized that she had been sleeping with a devil.

She had broken faith with the Empire, she knew in her heart. Years of loyal service by her grandfather and her mother had amounted to nothing. Her brief time in the intelligence corps had merely opened her eyes to what was going on around her. Certainly the dark side of Luke was appealing and most women found it intoxicating. She had even allowed herself to believe she wanted to be hurt, to be put in great physical pain that went along with the sweetness of intimate relations. It had been a lie. Her ambition was only a cover for a desire to be free. She had always figured if she reached high enough office, the taint of the darkness that was the New Order would be able to be removed. How wrong she had been!

She looked down at the message. Warlord Thrawn was officially back in the galaxy, returned from whatever dark assignment Lord Ravage had sent him on. She could only imagine what sort of evil Thrawn had in mind for the New Republic and the Confederacy. Unlike so many others in the Empire, she did not hold Thrawn in such high regard. Where people saw a tactical military genius, she saw a man who enjoyed a methodical slaughter. He masked his sociopath tendencies behind military conquest.

Still, Thrawn was the only person who could outright challenge Luke's authority. This entire debacle on Bespin was going bad very quickly. She had already received the report from the battle and it wasn't good. Their spy in the CSA had been killed when his star destroyer was blown to bits by a trio of TIE Defenders (of course the star destroyers of Luke's personal fleet had managed to bring down the CSA vessel's shields). When the Corporate Sector discovered this, they would respond fully with either a bill or with force. 

There had been no less than ten encounters between the Corporate Sector and AFNO fleets over the past ten years. While the Empire always came out ahead, that was only through pure luck. There was no doubt that the Corporate Fleet, compromised of over 300 _Victory_-class star destroyers, was the largest military force in the galaxy. Luckily, its command structure was not quite as admirable.

But there would be hell to pay and Fresca had no desire to be here when the CSA came calling to take back their profitable planet. The only thing was she did not know where she could go. She could get a shuttle; that would be no problem and she doubted Luke would ever lift a finger to stop her from going. He had no further use for her now as he had his sister to play with. 

Fresca had walked by the chamber where Leia was being held and had peered in through the small window in the door. Just over the stormtrooper's shoulder she could see a beaten, bruised and very naked Leia chained to the wall while Luke punched her in the stomach. Just as she would cry out, he would close his eyes, no doubt using his abilities to intensify the pain.

Of the three men that had been in the docking bay, only two remained. Dash Rendar had been sent flying over the side and into the abyss of the gas planet. Leia had screamed for Luke to save him, but he had instead…she shook her head. Even she had not thought him to be that cruel. His hatred and rage towards his sister was uncontrollable. The only thing that would make him even angrier was if she were to escape.

A scheme formed in Fresca's mind. If she could save Leia and the other two, Horn and Calrissian, they would give her a first-class ticket into the New Republic. She knew that General Xizor would jump at the chance to have her join his operation and it would give her a chance to strike even more blows at Luke's ego.

She grabbed the message, the ambitious plan forming in her mind even as she put on her red leather operative uniform. She needed to get the message to Luke.

"He's ordered me to what?"

Fresca kept the latest piece from the Imperial symphony playing in her head ash Luke raged and threw the message down on the floor. "He's trying to interfere in Sith matters, that blue-skinned ape!"

The intelligence officer cleared her throat and Luke stopped and turned to her. His face was blood red and there were cuts all over his hands and wrists. He looked as if he had been given a beating as opposed to providing one. She could not even begin to imagine the condition Leia was in, if she were even still alive. "Technically, lord, you did overstep your boundaries when you attacked the CSA vessel."

Luke spit on the floor and uttered a very foul curse word. "What good is a fighting force if it doesn't fight once in awhile? Does he really think I need a whole fleet to pursue Jedi?"

"Regardless, lord, I again have to stress that in matters of military protocol, he is senior to you."

Luke nodded, knowing she was right. The military was important to the Empire and as much as he hated to admit it, as he often did, Thrawn was the better man to lead it. Still, it was only one vessel in a remote part of the galaxy. Surely the Corporate Sector would not go to war over something as trivial as this. Of course, he could call up the Board and tell them he had been hunting Jedi on Cloud City. The Corporate Sector, which had portions of the old Trade Federation incorporated into it, had no love for the Jedi that was true.

Surely they would have preferred to have the Jedi removed. "I didn't realize you had a love for classical music," Luke said as he tried to read her mind. He assumed that it was her way of coping with the dark memories he had dragged to the surface of her mind. He really didn't care; he was done with her. "I suppose we need to prepare to leave."

"My intelligence indicates that would be prudent. It would also be wise that you report back to your flagship in the event the Warlord wishes to speak with your personally regarding this matter," she told him. He wanted to argue, but didn't. He had what he wanted, why not leave.

He considered taking Leia with him personally, but he could not be sure that she would not try to escape. He needed something to keep her in line, something she would find more important than her own life. In an instant, he knew what that was. "Have Horn taken down to the carbonite freezing chambers."

Fresca wrinkled her face. "May I ask why?"

"I have something special planned for my brother in the Force," Luke said before breaking into a fit of hysterical laughter that seemed to echo through the entire city.__


	23. Chapter 18

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 18

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"Do we have any sort of idea of the compliment of forces that Daala left behind?" Garm Bel Iblis asked as a steward served him his caf. It was an informal discussion between himself, Soontir Fel and Wedge Antilles in the flag officer's wardroom. The real strategy meeting was already over. It had been a gathering of all officers in the fleet of the rank of colonel or above and the consensus was that there was no way that Daala could have left behind a large enough force to prevent the Corellian/Chandrillian fleet from ejecting them from the Corellian System.

"We weren't really sure until they attacked Sullust," Wedge said as he sipped from his cup. It was a little too sweet for him and blanched. He recovered and explained that the Confederacy, like the Empire and New Republic had very few large fleets. It was suspected that the Empire only had two, maybe a third that was hidden somewhere, and the Tarkinists had three. The New Republic had four. All of the rest of the military formations were generally made up of three or four vessels, or several smaller non-capital ships. 

The years of savage fighting had reduced many vessels to nothing more than scored and burned hulks and they were generally retired to reserve fleets or space junk yards. In recent months, the New Republic had been plagued by several thefts of older vessels, but none of them had been operational so no alarm had been raised. Wedge suspected that the Empire and the Confederacy were suffering the same problem as well and he attributed it to the Corporate Sector Authority, which had the largest standing navy of any government. No doubt, some place deep in CSA territory, all of those worthless ships were being stripped of everything to be sold back to their original owners as spare parts.

"Correct," Fel agreed. "We were able to identify the vessels and so we are pretty sure that we'll be facing a young admiral named Rose. Our intelligence agencies have hardly anything on him other than he showed extreme initiative that caught Tarkin's eye. His fleet was not at Sullust."

"But it could be with the Death Star, wherever it is," Bel Iblis commented as he walked over to a table to select a pastry. He was a firm believer in caf and sugar to keep the heart pumping. The way he devoured spiced cakes and frosted confectionaries, he should have been at least several centimeters rounder, but he was always moving around so he worked it off just as soon as he ingested any food.

"I doubt it; Daala has her own little clique and circle of friends that she'll want to keep around her. She's predictable and she likes people who are like her. Rose was someone Tarkin favored, not her. If you want my opinion, I think her intent has always been to give up Corellia." Fel finished his caf and set the up down on the table. "She would not have wasted her time with it; she wants a world that she can subjugate immediately and definitely and with all of the resources she needs."

"And what does she need?"

"Shipyards," Wedge said with a big grin. "Like all of us, she needs shipyards. Remember, they only got a quarter of the Corellian yards up and running and most of them were only equipped to service fighter craft." He shook his head. "I can't imagine where she would be going."

"If I was a betting man," Bel Iblis started with a wry smile; Corellians were all notorious gamblers, "I would bet my entire sabbac pot she's going for Mon Calamari."

There was silence as the other two men considered it and then they both looked at Bel Iblis and saw a knowing look in his eye. If he was so sure about that, then what did that mean for the balance of power in the galaxy? Be Iblis laughed as he sensed the questions floating in the minds of his two most loyal officers. "As long as there is an Empire, there will always be that threat that Ravage has something to use against the Death Star. Remember, the Empire built the damn thing. If Mon Calamari goes down, what does that mean?"

Fel shrugged. "They still have Yaga Minor as a reserve capital ship facility."

"Think political, General, not military."

Fel considered for a moment as Wedge came up to stand next to him. Fel looked over at him and he shrugged his shoulders. Politics had never been Wedge's strong suit. "Well," Fel began slowly, "If Mon Calamari were to switch from Imperial to Confederacy hands, the Mon Calamari forces of the New Republic would be spurred to action. The Confederacy doesn't have the fair-minded attitude towards non-humans as the Empire does now. The citizens of Mon Calamari would be little more than slaves."

"Which would further weaken the New Republic," Wedge finished. "With them gone, the New Republic will be down nearly thirty-five percent in forces, because we left!"

Bel Iblis nodded. "It is a good plan, but predictable. Regis should have seen it coming and should have moved quicker with plans to get rid of the Death Star through sabotage or whatever. Instead he sat around on his ass playing court while the New Republic started to die as soon as it began." The former senator shook his head and chuckled. "Never put a pacifist in charge of a military. The Formation Council gave too much power to the Chief of State. There should have been term limits, like I demanded from the start."

"So the New Republic is finished?" Wedge asked.

"That depends on Thrawn, which is another important point. As Warlord of the Empire," Bel Iblis pointed out by jabbing a pastry towards Wedge, "he is responsible for the security of Mon Calamari. If Daala wins there and decimates his fleet that is stationed there, Ravage will have no choice but to replace him. Without Thrawn, the Empire is finished. Ravage has shown some tactical genius, but he isn't Thrawn."

"Not by a long shot," Fel agreed. "That would leave Luke Skywalker over the forces of the New Order."

"And he's a lunatic," Wedge said. The other men nodded their heads. Wedge rubbed the stubble on his chin, considering how the balance of power was already starting to shift. They were at a crossroads; when all of this maneuvering was over, at least one government was going to be significantly weaker while another was going to reap great benefits. "Daala is being damned ambitious."

"Too ambitious," Bel Iblis said. "I get the feeling that she and I and Regis…that all of us…are part of some grander scheme. Everything is happening too neatly, there is a level of subtlety here that is mind-boggling." He looked over at a viewport that gave them a view of the streaking white lines of hyperspace. "I just get the idea we're not the masters here, but the pawns."

Several hours later, the Corellian/Chandrillian fleet emerged out of hyperspace in small groups of vessels. Immediately the anti-starfighter screening vessels moved ahead of the bulk of the forces while the troop transports turned about to sit in the rear. The star destroyers strike cruisers and battle wagons were meant to take on whatever forces Daala left behind.

On the bridge of the command ship, Fel and Bel Iblis stood above the pit and watched at the vessels of their fleet moved into the attack formation agreed upon. The Chandrillans had practically begged to go in first and Bel Iblis, understanding their plight and wanting to keep his allies happy, had agreed. Several ships under the Chandrillan banner surged ahead, their turbolasers immediately seeking out mines and spy satellites. Small explosions marked where the static defenses were being eliminated.

"What's the position of the enemy fleet?" Bel Iblis called out as he looked out at the planet of his birth. They were still too far out to pick out individual vessels against the background of the large world. He could make out the lights of some of the cities below and his heart skipped a beat. He had feared that his homeworld had been blasted into a stone age by the Confederacy. Rumors of the horrors inflicted on the population had been reaching the New Republic for fives years and he had lived with the gut-wrenching idea that there would be nothing here to save.

"Sir," the sensor officer called out. "I don't think this is right."

"Speak up, son," Bel Iblis barked.

"Sir, none of the enemy vessels are approaching. No fighters have been launched to intercept. It's like they don't even know we're here!" Several medium grade officers moved over to the station to verify the readings and Bel Iblis could tell by their astonished looks that the report had been true.

"Have the Chandrillans run an aggressive scan of the planet, looking for starfighter forces," Bel Iblis ordered. Fel looked over to flight status board and saw that Rogue Squadron was still on standby. They were being held in reserve just in case the Tarkinist's deployed any advanced fighters. 

The Empire had always worked very hard to come up with new, better and cheaper weapons and the Confederacy had followed the same set of guidelines. Though the New Republic had taken out several Seinar TIE fighter plants, many of the Corellian yards that were up had been retooled to perform maintenance and upgrades to existing fighters. Normal TIE fighters were fast but easy enough to destroy with the right pilot behind the stick in an X-Wing.  There were other TIE's that they needed to be wary of, especially the TIE Defender, a heavily armed fighter meant to engage capital ships. Very few had been manufactured and it was not known where they were. In the five years of civil war, the New Republic had encountered only one squadron and it had decimated a small flotilla of frigates and cargo vessels.

"Sir, we have a report of several squadrons grounded at various ports all over the planet. There are some routine enforcement and security patrols…wait one," an officer said as he tapped the plug in his ear. The officer nodded his head and slowly a smile broke over his face. "Sir, the patrol ships are CorSec X-Wings and Z-95's!"

"What?" Fel said, turning to Bel Iblis. He could tell by the look on the senator's face that he was just as surprised to hear the news. "Are they broadcasting?"

"Routine traffic, sir."

"We have a shuttle being launched from the surface, requesting a safe flight path to this vessel!"

Fel walked over to speak in a low tone to Bel Iblis. "It could be a suicide run."

"I doubt it; I've never heard of a Tarkinist that didn't want to live and live well," was the response. Bel Iblis considered the request and then asked, "Who is speaking?"

"They claim to represent Admiral Rose, senator; they claim it is the admiral himself that wants to speak with you."

Fel shook his head. "He'll just tell us to surrender…he probably has a fleet waiting a micro-jump away." He pointed to a tactical map. "There are several gravitational distortions in this system, especially around Centerpoint, that prevent our scans from being complete. You could hide a couple of star destroyers in there."

"Why? Why would they hide?"

"To draw us in…it isn't like they are just going to surrender the planet to us," Fel argued. There was a tremor in his voice as he started to realize that they could be surrounded. His fear was not so much for himself, but for all of the brave souls that had followed him here. He started to order the Chandrillans back to form a perimeter defense around the ship; he needed to get the senator out of here. 

Bel Iblis laid a hand on his shoulder and spoke to him in a calm voice. "Soontir, I think I know what is going on."

"Sir, do I authorize the shuttle to come in? We've got several X-Wings circling it, ready to fire!"

Bel Iblis marched over to the pit. "You inform our men that under no circumstance are they to fire on that shuttle! I don't care if they are being shot at! I want that shuttle to be given a clear path here."

"Launch Rogue Squadron at least, senator," Fel pleaded. "Let them provide some security until we find out what is going on." Bel Iblis nodded his approval and Fel ordered the Launch Control Officer to carry out the order. Seconds later the fighters of Rogue Squadron lifted off and slowly passed through the magnetic shields of the hanger bays that held them. The starfighters immediately formed into two ship groups and then fanned out. 

Fel moved over to a comms station and switched it to Wedge's private channel. "Keep an eye on that shuttle. I don't trust it."

"I'm going to do a flyby and scan it just for laughs," Wedge replied. "I don't like it either but to be honest, we don't know what the hell has been going on here." Fel replied that the idea that there had been some sort of overthrow of the Tarkinist government was ridiculous. 

"You remember what it was like when Tarkin rebelled against the Emperor," Fel said, reminding Wedge of when Fel had first joined up with Bel Iblis's movement. It had been after Fel and Luke Skywalker had escaped from the Death Star. Luke claimed their duty was to return to the Emperor and report what Tarkin was doing; Fel had stated that his duty was to stop Tarkin and not waste time running to Imperial Center.

Luke had left and Fel had stayed, roaming the cities of his homeworld and realizing that the Empire had been slowly killing the planet. People were starving and dying everywhere and there had been nothing that Fel could have done about it. When he was finally captured by the Rebellion, he had been assigned to Wedge for possible turning. "Our people are not in any shape to stand up against the forces arrayed against them."

"Maybe, maybe not, brother-in-law," Wedge said. "Maybe you need to have more faith."

Rogue Squadron had escorted the shuttle to Bel Iblis's vessel while the rest of the fleet remained at station keeping. All it would take is a single command by Bel Iblis and the attack would begin. Several of the ships had already used long-range sensors to pinpoint targets and coordinates were being locked into torpedo and missile targeting computers.

The shuttle, a standard Imperial-issue type glided into the hanger bay and settled down in a spot that was normally reserved for such craft. Some things remained standard no matter what government was controlling the ship. Around the hanger bay were armed soldiers wearing protective blaster armor. Fel and Bel Iblis marched into the hanger bay from an adjoining compartment where they had been fitted with personal shielding devices. If weapons were drawn, then it was Fel's responsibility to get the senator out of harm's way. 

"Remember, let me do the talking," Bel Iblis warned him. While Fel was a great military officer, he had proven time and time again that he had no tolerance for politics or the language of diplomacy. If Admiral Rose demanded their surrender, Bel Iblis would flatly refuse and order the man off of his ship. If he wanted to discuss any sort of terms, the Bel Iblis would listen. Often times many details could be gleaned about the status of an enemy's forces by the way they negotiated. Either way, Bel Iblis had to admit that Admiral Rose was a unique man for approaching in such a manner.

And that only added to the mystery of the man. New Republic Intelligence had nothing on him; Imperial Intelligence had even less. By all accounts, he was simply a bright militia officer that had risen through the ranks because Tarkin had taken a special interest in him. And now Bel Iblis was taking the same look at the young admiral.

As the ramp lowered on the shuttle, he expected to see a man in a uniform covered in medals, but he was slightly surprised to see two stormtroopers step down, nervously, followed by who must have been Rose. He was young, much younger than Bel Iblis had guessed. He had expected someone around Fel's age, but instead saw someone closer to Luke Skywalker's. 

Rose stepped forward and stopped at a respectable distance from Bel Iblis and Fel. "Senator Bel Iblis. General Fel." He bowed slightly. 

"Admiral…your reputation proceeds you," Bel Iblis replied. "What can I do for you?"

"It is not so much what you can do for me, but what it is that I can do for you," Rose said matter-of-factly.

"Unless you plan to surrender your forces to my command, I don't see what you could do for me."

Rose seemed to consider his answer before speaking. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to surrender the forces under my control. You see, they have been with me for the past few years and I've grown quite attached to them." He seemed to chuckle inwardly and his eyes sparkled in a mischievous way. "You'll have to forgive me, senator, but I've really grown quite tired of all of this."

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," was the reply even as Bel Iblis noticed that Fel was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the entire conversation. "You are tired of the civil war."

"A soldier is always tired of war, but he is always prepared to wage it."

Fel's head snapped up. He had heard the exact same statement once before. "You've served under Thrawn," he said.

Rose inclined his head again. "He told me that you were a very perceptive student. Yes, I have served and I continue to serve Warlord Thrawn. My true name is Kir Kanos and I am a member of the Crimson Guard. Several years ago, I was placed undercover in the Tarkin Confederacy along with enough forces to make it seem as if I really were a militia commander. Many of the worlds that swore allegiance to the Confederacy were never even investigated. The man I replaced, the real Rose, has been dead ever since…ever since I assumed his identity."

There was a stifling silence in the hanger bay and it was finally broken when a soldier standing along the wall coughed. "Then why are you here?"

"The Empire has changed. Under Warlord Thrawn and our Lord Ravage, the New Order has begun to rethink many former policies. We only wish to be able to live in peace under a government of our choosing. We do not want the New Republic's democracy forced on us." His smile grew larger. "Much the same feelings that you have expressed."

"I thought the Crimson Guard was completely loyal to Palpatine," Fel said, interrupting. He was not completely convinced of anything that Kanos was saying. "You would willingly serve Ravage?"

"His is the rightful successor. My oath is to the emperor, whomever that is, so long as they obtained the office in a manner that is…acceptable." He turned back to Bel Iblis. "The Empire no longer wishes to lord over those who can support themselves, are capable of intelligent self rule and are willing to work with the New Order."

The Corellian senator shook his head. "That sounds like the same garbage that Palpatine preached during the Clone Wars. Then, as soon as someone's guard is down, star destroyers and TIE fighters swoop in and clear a path for the stormtroopers. I saw the original occupation of Corellia, Mr. Kanos."

"It's Commander Kanos, actually, and Warlord Thrawn felt that would be your response." He turned to one of the stormtroopers and nodded. The trooper laid his blaster rifle on the deck and then turned around and went back into the shuttle. Several of Bel Iblis's men moved to stop him, but Fel stopped them with a raised hand. "My assistant is going inside to get a datapad that contains a message directly from Warlord Thrawn, giving me complete negotiating authority."

"And what is it that we are negotiating? As far as I can tell, you still represent an occupying force on my world and I will remove you from it," Bel Iblis said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Why, the turnover of this system to you, of course. There is no need to remove us…we are more than willing to leave."


	24. Chapter 19

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 19

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The air of the carbonite-freezing chamber was surprisingly warm and Luke undid the top button of his dark tunic. Artoo-Detoo, his robotic companion, gave a low whistled as its photoreceptor took in the sit of the massive pit in front of them. Luke put a hand on the small droid and patted it gingerly. "You are my only friend, Artoo," he said in a low voice. 

The droid had originally been his mother's, but it had been his father who had taken a special interest in the little astromech. In the years since his mother's betrayal, Artoo had served as the unofficial communications middleman between Luke and his mother. There was no way Luke could directly contact her, to let her know of his feelings of betrayal and his oath of vengeance, so he sent the droid instead. The New Republic, no, the galaxy he corrected himself, was full of models just like Artoo and his passage between the two governments was always uneventful. 

Several times his mother had sent messages of pleading, begging Luke to be just like her and betray his oath to his master. To deny the Sith was to deny his heritage and he would never do that. Artoo scanned the pit and then straightened up, turning his single receptor towards his master. Luke smiled at him and for a moment he looked like someone else. In the company of the astromech droid, he was at his happiest. Artoo made no judgments, made no demands of Luke and was always loyal regardless of what Luke did.

Han Solo had almost been a friend like that. Luke remembered the cocky Corellian with the lopsided grin. Of course, all Corellians had that same insipid smile. But, Luke knew, Han would have eventually turned against him, would have taken someone's side over his. Emperor Palpatine had told Luke to watch out for those closest to him, but he had not heeded that advice totally and he had paid a price for it.

Small, furry and tusked humanoids scurried about the chamber, checking hoses and examining valves. The Ugnaughts were the workers, the slave labor, of Cloud City. Slavery, which was referred to as indentured servitude in the Corporate Sector, was prominent in many mining colonies. Luke assumed that they knew what they were doing as he could not ask the human supervisor. Most of the staff of Cloud City was under house arrest or dead and Luke's detachment of stormtroopers was getting spread too thin. He really did need to leave and soon.

A chamber door opened on the other side and two stormtroopers stepped through. Their black armor reflecting the orange lighting like it was flames. They looked more like demons of myth than soldiers. Luke stepped away from Artoo, physically placing himself between the prisoners and his only friend. The first person through the door was Lando Calrissian. The notorious gambler and former baron-administrator of Cloud City gave Luke a look that would have killed if it had been possible. There was no fear radiating from Calrissian, only anger and hatred. Were Calrissian a Jedi, he would be dangerous and Luke gave him a smirk to indicate that he knew what he was thinking.

Leia was dragged in by an Ugnaught. Luke had allowed her to slip into a small leather thong and top, with an added chain around her neck. She didn't protest, but that was only because her throat was raw from all of the screaming she had done over the past few days. There were bruises, cuts and some deep lacerations all over her body, but Luke still thought she looked to good. Some more torture was in order and he made a mental note to have Artoo send a signal to his command ship to prepare his personal playroom for his darling sister.

Leia tripped and fell onto the rough grating, tearing the skin from both knees. Lando turned to help her and reached out, despite his hands being bound. One of stormtroopers smacked him in the kidney with the butt of his blaster rifle. Lando went down as well and the Ugnaught that had been in charge of Leia was flattened under Lando's mass. There were a few moments of confusion as two more stormtroopers entered the chamber to help the two prisoners up and Luke passed the time by using the Force to make some of the other Ugnaughts trip and fall. He got a lot of pleasure out of one in particular that was blind in one eye and walked with a limp. 

The stormtroopers shoved the prisoners forward and brought them to a spot opposite from Luke and across the pit. "You won't get away with this!" Lando sneered. "This is Corporate Sector territory. You've committed an act of war!"

Luke shrugged. "We've been at war for five years; it's nothing new." He tapped his chin with a finger. "Of course, I've been monitoring all of the local net channels and CSA news is reporting nothing amiss here. I guess someone paid off the board."

Lando's surprised and shocked look made Luke chuckle. "Really? Did you think the Corporate Sector was going to plunge itself into an unprofitable war over you?" He turned his attention to his sister. "Are you feeling well, sibling? Can I get you something?"

Leia spit blood onto the grating. "Go to hell," she managed to get out.

"Perhaps one day, when I need to extend the boundaries of the New Order." He replied with a smile. Fresca entered the chamber next, dressed in her red tunic and a short skirt, complete with the knee-high black boots. Luke felt the familiar stirrings deep within his stomach, a hunger for the flesh of a subservient lover. She seemed to sense his desire and she graced him with a smile. He tried to read her mind, but again the symphony was playing. He really had to find out what it was about her and classical music. 

Fresca walked by the prisoners, not even bothering to glance at them and took her spot at Luke's rear, next to Artoo. Then Corran was led in. He was not bound, except by honor. He had been told the moment he tried to escape or make trouble, Leia would be shot by one of three snipers positioned in the chamber. His lightsaber was gone and Luke did not appear to be wearing one. Not that it would help; Corran could not hope to match the telekinetic powers of the Sith Lord.

Corran was stopped at the edge of the pit at a point between the prisoners and captor. Luke nodded to him and remarked to the others what a gracious host he had been. "As you can see, Padawan Horn has not been touched…much. I haven't slit his Jedi throat, as much as I would like to." Nobody said anything and again Luke shrugged. He cleared his throat and addressed his sister. "Leia, I will only ask this once: join me. Come to the Dark Side of the Force and swear loyalty to my Lord Ravage. Do so and I will spare the life of your true love, for there is no guarantee that the freezing process is not fatal."

Corran finally spoke, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Leia! Don't do it! Don't throw your life away!"

Leia began crying as well and shaking her head. "Why are you doing this?" she asked. It was the same question she had asked time and time again during the whole ordeal. She had never imagined that her brother's hatred for her had run so deep. The things he had done to her were unmentionable, things she would have to live with in silent shame for the rest of her life. Now he was demanding that she become just like him.

"Because I can, sister, dear. People in power can do that and right now, I am the one with the power." He paused and gave a sadistic laugh. "You might have had a chance if your master had not run out on you! I can't imagine Kyp Durron, the great messiah of the New Republic, turning his back on his two padawans. I guess you really broke his heart, sis."

"Don't do it!" Corran repeated. He looked over at Luke. "Go ahead, throw me in, but leave her alone!"

Luke's face took on a look of confusion and he paused for a moment and then looked around the room, making a theater production out of the whole affair. "I'm sorry, Corran, but I said her true love." Luke looked over to Leia. "You haven't told him, have you?"

"What? That she slept with Dash? Because of your influence, Sith!" Corran shouted. "You manipulated her mind, you made her and Dash do those things." He straightened up and looked to Leia. "I still love her."

"Yeah, but she doesn't love you. She never really did. In fact, all I did was get rid of her inhibitions." Luke's grin grew feral and he stepped closer to Corran. "She has always been in love with Dash, ever since the first day she saw him. I've seen it all in her mind. She settled for you because you were the nice one, the stable one. You were a slow cooker for a woman who wanted flame broiling."

Luke snapped his fingers and a figure was pushed into the chamber by some guards. "Dash!" Leia exclaimed as the Corellian stepped into the light. 

"I caught him with my mind," Luke said, referring to the previous battle when he had knocked Dash out of the hanger bay. He wiggled his eyebrows at Corran and moved a step closer. "The power of the Dark Side is great, but you wouldn't know about that would you, Corran? That's because you're the honorable one, the nice guy. You make sweet love to a girl; Dash ravages a woman."

Corran's gaze switched back and forth from Dash, who looked the worse for wear and to Leia. Her eyes betrayed her true emotions and Corran felt his is world shattering. Luke sensed it as well and he was soon whispering into Corran's ear. "They have all turned against you. They have lied and used you, laughed at you behind your back while they spawned like fish every chance they got."

Corran shook his head and kept whispering "no, no". Luke moved behind the padawan and spoke lightly into the other ear. "How many times have you laid with my sister and she blocked you from reaching out to you in the Force? You always thought it was your lack of ability, but in truth it was her strength in protecting her lies. While you made love, she thought of Dash while you thought of her. '

"Corran…" Dash said weakly.

The sound of Dash's voice snapped the last of Corran's resolve. He had struggled to be honorable throughout their confinement, ever since he realized that Leia and Dash had been intimate. He had given both of his friends the benefit of the doubt and he had been made a fool. And now they wanted to plead with him to understand. They wanted to say they were sorry. "No," he said, his voice rising from a whisper to a crescendo. "No!"

The power of his voice was amplified by the rage he was feeling. Leia stumbled back, feeling the dark Side pouring in through the very walls and heading straight for Corran. His eyes seemed to grow dark and his breathing became heavier as he started to tremble. Luke stepped back and sniffed the air. "Smells like revenge to me," he said.

"No, Corran, don't!" Leia cried out. "I'm sorry!"

Corran stretched an arm out towards Dash and grabbed him with the Force. His rage and embarrassment amplified his powers, making them ten times what they normally would be. It had a price, though, as a large purplish splotch started to grow from a pinpoint over his left eye into a spider-like creation of evil that started to creep down his face. "You! You claimed to be my friend! You claimed to be my ally! I looked up to you! " Dash started to rise in the air, wiggling as if he were in the grasp of a giant invisible hand.

"Yes," Luke whispered. "Show them the price of betrayal. Know what I know, Corran Horn!"

Leia and Lando both begged Corran to put Dash down, but the Corellian was beyond reasoning with and he moved the struggling space-pirate/mercenary over the pit. He opened his hand and Dash dropped with a heavy thud into it. Luke waved a finger, activating the freezing equipment. There was a blast of white, frozen air and then the thunderous roar of carbonite as it was being changed from gas to liquid and then finally a solid. 

If Dash screamed, it was drowned out by the noise of the process and Corran's face continued to contort with rage. Leia was on her knees, crying and screaming for it all to stop and Lando forced himself to look away. Fresca, on the other hand, continued to watch Luke, who was simply relishing in the entire affair. That look finalized any lingering doubts she had about going over to the New Republic. She craved power, but not at this price. 

As an intelligence officer, she had always distanced herself from the day-to-day obscenities that defined the work of a special operative. Unlike her mother, she had never been one for hands-on-work of this type. To Fresca, it was cheap. A true intelligence officer used their mind to outwit their opponent, such as when she disguised herself as a mercenary and simply strode past Kyp Durron, the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. 

In truth she had distanced herself because she wanted to avoid the truth of what her government and position represented. She had foolishly allowed herself to get swept up in the notion that her skills in the bedroom could somehow alter the course of destiny. Luke Skywalker was a madman and if he was the servant, she could only imagine the true state of mind of Lord Ravage. Did Thrawn know about all of this? Did he even care?

The process of freezing was relatively quick as it was normally reserved for putting the gas minded on Bespin into a better, more durable form for shipping. Production demands required a fast process and this was the fastest. An Ugnaught hurried over to the unloading controls and activated them. From the overhead, a pair of giant mechanical fingers lowered down into the pit. A light on the control panel turned green and the creature pressed another button.

The fingers rose out of the pit, a giant dark and steaming block of black material grasped in the metal digits. It took several seconds to maneuver the fingers out of the pit area and over to the unloading area. With very little ceremony, the fingers opened and the block dropped to the grating with a resounding clang. 

Leia gasped and Lando moaned when they looked upon it and Luke and stepped past a shivering Corran to examine the block. It was almost square, except in the spots where Dash's from stuck out. It was obvious he had been down on all fours, one arm off of the ground and reaching up. His face was locked in a permanent moan of despair. 

As part of the manufacturing process, the block had a status indicator attached to it and Luke gave it a quick glance. It indicated a perfectly frozen organic locked inside the block. "He lives." Luke turned to Corran. "A present for you, a gift to mark your transformation."

"My transformation?" Corran managed to ask in a raspy voice. He was barely able to stand.

"You have come across the great divide, Corran Horn. You now know the true power the Force has to offer. No longer will you be lied to. No longer will you be the one that they speak of behind closed doors." Luke moved back over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

"You bastard!" Leia said. There was no way to know whom the statement was directed at.

Luke turned to her. "And what does that make you, my sister?" She did not immediately reply and he started laughing. It was a maniacal laugh, the laugh of someone not possessing a soul. "Why do you curse me, sister? What have I done except expose the truth of your infidelity?" Luke then whirled to face Corran. "It as I have always said, as my master has always said. The Jedi propagate lies and deceit, while it has always been the Sith who proclaim the truth. Sometimes the truth is painful."

"What do you want from me?" Corran asked, his voice rough. He averted his eyes from Leia and Lando. 

"Join us in the New Order. We are working towards a greater goal, a goal of a government not ruled by smooth-talking liberal liars, we seek to unify the galaxy under a safety net of the truth." Luke spread his arms wide and Fresca was silently impressed by the way he could shift from raving pervert to politician in the blink of an eye. It was obvious he had studied under Palpatine. "Sometimes that truth is brutal. Sometimes you have to acknowledge that for the good of the many, the few must be sacrificed. Through the Sith way, by following the Dark Side, you can learn the truths that the Jedi wanted to keep from you."

Corran looked unsure and Luke continued. "Why were you not able to detect the lustful thoughts of your fiancé? Do you think that Dash Rendar was the only rogue that caught her eye? Do you now know what she and the other Jedi thought of you, the Jedi with the 'weaker' talents?"

Leia's eyes betrayed the truth and told of the thoughts she had allowed to wander through her mind over the years. But thinking was not the same as doing she always told herself, but now, looking into the face of Corran and seeing the pain, she understood how wrong she had been. Corran had been a fine boyfriend, but she now realized she should have never agreed to marry him.

Now it was too late. "Corran, I'm sorry…"

Corran's facial muscles twitched and there was a surge in the Force as he tried to control his anger. "I'll join you," he finally said. Slowly, he dropped down onto one knee in front of Luke and bowed his head. "Take me as your apprentice, teach me the ways of the Sith." He popped his head up and looked directly at Leia. "Teach me the truth."

"We will be exiting hyperspace in a few minutes, fleshbags," Ippy said. The droid quickly typed in some commands to the hyperdrive controls. If he didn't compensate correctly, Kyp and Chewbacca would be splattered against the bulkheads when they returned to real space.

Kyp popped his head into the cockpit. "Chewbacca is finally getting some rest, so let's leave him be. Is Threepio still behind us?"

Ippy pointed to a small, green plant. It was tied in directly to the navigational senses of the living part of the _Millennium Falcon_. "Your salad says so," the droid commented, indicating the small purple bloom. "If you want, I can open the hatch and you can stick your head out to look."

"Where did you get that attitude?" Kyp grumbled as he plopped into the pilot's seat. 

"Droids do not have attitudes, we have specialized programming."

Kyp reached up for the interface hood. "Ever hear of a memory wipe?"

"If I had emotions, I suppose I would be scared."

Kyp pulled the hood down and placed it over his head. Through it, he saw hyperspace the way the ship did and it was hypnotic. Gravitational fields roared by, disappearing into small time warps. He loved to sleep with the hood on when they were in hyperspace, but to be honest, he enjoyed talking with his ship. Ippy was annoying, but loyal, yet he wasn't really alive. Corran and him had not gotten along for a while, though they did not hate each other. The truth was that Kyp still sort of resented the fact that Leia had picked Corran over him, when even Kyp could see that Leia wanted something more.

Leia made Kyp uncomfortable now. Each day she seemed to get lovelier and each day he felt himself thinking more and more about her. Well, except for that cute little mercenary he had run into on Cloud City. Maybe he should have gotten her name?

The ship fell back into real space and Kyp's mind exploded with colors and sensations. The Dark Side was thick here, like a fog of death. Kyp could taste bile in his mouth and even the ship seemed particularly upset to be in this area. Korriban showed up as a large swirling mass through the senses of the _Falcon_. Tendrils of evil radiated from the center and small black dots swarmed around it like flies over a corpse.

"Dots?" Kyp whispered, not understanding.

"Sir," Ippy said in a sarcastic tone, "It looks like the planet is under blockade and there are fighters coming for us."


	25. Chapter 20

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 20

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"All I ever wanted to do was be a Jedi Knight and maybe, just maybe, marry a certain princess that I know and have lots of little Kyps."

Ippy, busy programming the weapons, did not reply. He normally didn't when Kyp began recounting what he wanted his life to be like. The droid never had understood why sentients always rebelled against their programming. He was a warrior so logic dictated that he involve himself in fighting, not loving. Not that Ippy knew what love was, though he had found it was something that made people do incredibly chaotic things.

Chewbacca poked his head into the cockpit and barked a question. "The furbag wants to know if you have gotten us into trouble again."

Kyp didn't bother to turn around; with the interface hood on he would not have been able to see Chewbacca, but through the ship's organic feelings, he could sense where the big Wookie was. "Something is going on around the planet, Chewie, but I'm not sure what it is."

"It is a fleet of vessels, sir," Ippy replied as he charged the laser cannons. "Approximately 100 capital class vessels of varying design and approximately 200 fighter craft. I am also picking up transmissions from the surface."

"I thought this planet was abandoned," Kyp wondered out loud.

"The Imperial Encyclopedia, which I am well-versed in, indicates that the planet is supposed to be abandoned. It is officially listed a monument to both Darth Maul and Darth Vader since they both died here."

Kyp snorted and reached out with the Force. "Does the encyclopedia bother to say that they died because they killed each other?" He tried to pick out an individual fighter to try and get a read on the pilot, but the Dark Side energy coming off of Korriban was interfering with most of his abilities. "It's like trying to breath through ferrocrete," he muttered.

Chewbacca wailed and shook Kyp by the shoulder. "The Wookie wishes to man one of the gun mounts."

"Go ahead; we're too close to Korriban to risk trying to use the dovin basils; I'm afraid of what it might do to the ship." Vong technology was never meant to be mated with something like a freighter and while the organic parts would do fine under the stress of gravity, the actual ship could come apart. 

"There appears to be no rhyme or reason to the ship or fighter types," Ippy commented. "_Slave I _ just came out of hyperspace. See-Threepio is attempting to contact us. Can I ignore him?"

"Negative. Tell him to plot a course for Tatooine and have him report to my father until I come back for him," Kyp snapped as he rolled the _Falcon_. They started heading down towards the planet; he was hoping that maybe they could pick up another signal from the surface to give them some sort of hint as to whom they were dealing with. "Do you think it's the Empire, Ippy?"

"I don't know," the droid snapped back. "I don't think, I merely process facts as I receive them. The facts indicate that only one of the galactic governments would have this many vessels in one place." The ship lurched as Kyp pulled up just before hitting the atmosphere. Two fighters behind him had to veer sharply away. The images he was receiving through the hood identified them as X-Wings.

The New Republic had the most X-Wings, but the Tarkinists kept some for garrison and security duty. Three TIE Bombers, in a V-formation did a flyby as they tried to round the planet. "The bombers are attempting to hail us. They are speaking standard Galactic Basic. Now switching to various other languages. It appears to be a standard recording."

"They must use it to lull people into a false sense of security," Kyp mused. He reached up and pulled off the hood, wanting to feast his own eyes on the fleet. They came around the planet, ten fighters in hot pursuit of them, and five going after _Slave I_ as it turned to make a jump into hyperspace. 

They almost missed the fleet, as all of the hulls were jet black. The lights of the various docking bays, viewports and weapons mounts gave the impression of stars. It was only when their attitude adjustment thrusters fired did Kyp note that they were actually ships.

Painting ships black was considered too dangerous even for most space pirates. If another vessel happened to have no sensors for whatever reason, they could always eyeball other ships in their path. "By the Force," he whispered as he spied one gigantic ship. He recognized it immediately, but he had only seen one other of that class before. "It's a _Super_-class star destroyer," he said. "That proves it, this is an Imperial fleet!"

Ippy disagreed with him. "All vessels have an IFF transponder, but all military vessels have a redundant secondary that very few know about. I'm accessing it now." Kyp didn't argue, but instead pulled up just as the two lead fighters started to fire. The _Falcon _rocked with the force of the blasts.

"Rear shields down fifteen percent! What the hell is chasing us?"

He looked down at the threat screen and saw that a TIE variant he had never seen before had replaced the two X-Wings. Most TIE models contained a cockpit sandwiched between two solar panels. There was another design, the TIE Defender, which had three panels at 120 degree spacing around the cockpit. The two firing at him had five.

"That would be a TIE Punisher. Only ten were ever made and they were assigned to garrison duty at Seinar Fleet Systems," Ippy told him. "Ah," he said. "Once again the droid brain triumphs over the sentient's stupidity!"

The ship bucked under some more blasts and Kyp saw his shielding in some spots was now less than ten percent. "Anytime you feel like firing, Chewbacca!"

The Wookie roared back and Kyp somehow got the impression that his loops and dips were not appreciated. He needed to level out to give Chewbacca a good shot, but there was no way he could do that with all of the black-hulled ships in his way. He reached up and put on the hood and let himself sink back into the mind of his ship. It reached out with gravity to pick out each vessel and then Kyp mentally asked it if it could give them a path to safety.

A voice whispered in his ear. "Closer, come closer to the planet."

"Sithspawn! Now I've got ghosts talking to me!" There was vibration through the deck plates as Chewbacca opened up with the quad laser cannons. The red lances of light, which burned though the left solar panel and sent it spinning into a slower Y-Wing, kissed a standard TIE fighter. Kyp tried to concentrate on the ship but the voice was becoming insistent. "Closer," it called to him.

Kyp knew that the spirits of the dead Sith Lords resided on Korriban. It was where they spent eternity for the most part, trapped on a dead world inside giant massive statues. It was the price they paid for the power they held in life. Each and every Dark Lord had tried to figure out a way to cheat death, to keep from ending up as a monument to their own personal avarice, but none had succeeded as far Kyp knew. 

He wondered if one of those Dark Lords was calling out to him now, trying to get him to kill himself for its own demonic pleasure?

But good men had died here as his father had told him, and Padme Amidala had related how Anakin Skywalker had defeated Darth Maul here as well. One would have thought that the sacrifice of her beloved would have convinced her to return to the light side, but Padme had explained that her heart had been so broken by Anakin's death, that she had simply stopped caring and had given herself completely to the Dark Side.

He couldn't imagine such despair. "Leave me alone," he said aloud to the spirit. 

Ippy gave off a curse word and threw his mechanical hands in the air. "Fine, fly the damn ship yourself! Let them capture us, I don't care, human. Everyone can use a good droid."

"Not you!" Kyp moaned. Chewbacca scored another hit as an X-Wing became space dust. Kyp saw that he had no choice but had to head towards the planet. ""I am not doing this to make you happy!"

"Of course you aren't, nobody every wants to make the droid happy!"

"Shut up, Ippy!" Kyp said and he once again reached into the Force. He wanted to identify the voice that was calling to him. Again and again, its voice becoming more and more hurried as he approached at as fast a speed as he could muster. In the corner of his mind, he picked up the ion cannons of two New republic B-Wings taking down _Slave I_. It didn't look good for Threepio.

Chewbacca roared and Ippy reminded him that he was heading for the planet surface. "I know!" Kyp called back. "Just keep shooting!"

Ippy fired off a concussion missile that caught a passing _Lambda­_-class shuttle in the engines. There was a bright flash and then it lost control, hitting the atmosphere and bouncing off to tumble into space. "Two corvettes are moving in to block us," Ippy said. 

"Just keep the fighters off of me, I'm going down to the planet and we're going to skim the landmasses. The capital ships can't follow!" he said triumphantly.

"No, they can just fire their turbolasers down and fry us in an instant!"

Chewbacca gave a whoop as one of the TIE Punishers exploded into nothingness. The other veered away obviously not wanting to face the Wookie's wrath in its own. In place of the custom Imperial fighters came a group of 5 CloakShape fighters, older model snubnose craft used mostly by pirates. 

"Put all the shields to the rear," Kyp ordered.

Ippy complied, reminding him that there could be ground batteries. Kyp shook his head. "I don't pick anything like that up. There are some people on the surface, several in fact, but there doesn't appear to be any sort of base defenses. I think they rely on the fleet for that."

The ship's organic mind reeled as a turbolaser blast raced past them, missing the _Falcon_ by meters. "Easy, baby," Kyp told the ship. He tried to sooth it but it seemed to be very, very upset. His perceptions started to change and he could no longer feel the world around him like he normally could. 

"Yes!" the voice said in obvious glee. The hood went black and Kyp ripped it off and reached out for the yoke. He toggled the concussion missile controls to his thumb trigger. "I don't like this!" he said, realizing that something had just happened to his ship. He jerked the yoke hard to the left and Chewbacca took down two of their pursuers. The ships, trailing smoke, tumbled down towards the brown surface.

Kyp pointed the _Falcon_ straight up and pushed the throttle forward even more. The compensators screamed as the tried to pull free of Korriban's gravity. Another turbolaser just missed them and Kyp wondered what ship was firing at them. "Did you get a read on that big ship?"

"I did, but I thought I was supposed to shut up," Ippy said. Kyp threw him a dirty look and used the Force to pull out one of his photoreceptors. "Hey!" the droid protested. "Fine, fleshy thing! It came back as the _Sith Lord_. My military database indicates that it was ship that was never commissioned. It was being built over Byss when the war started, but it was never completed."

"Five years would be enough time," Kyp said. He remembered once hearing about how certain members of the Corporate Sector Authority had arranged for ship hulls to be stolen out of the shipyards in order to be brought into their own fleets at the start of the war. Then maybe they were looking at a CSA fleet? They certainly had the capital to purchase all of the vessels.

"Plot us a course," Kyp said, now noting a buzzing in the back of his head. He suddenly had a compulsion to put the hood back on. He shook his head and gritted his teeth as they broke the atmospheric canopy and shot out into free space. 

"_Slave I_ is disabled," Ippy said. 

"We can't go after him," Kyp announced as he examined the threat board. Several fighters were circling the Mandalorian craft even as two transports slowly made their way towards it. Jango Fett's ship was a loss, as was his droid. "Chewbacca won't be happy."

"Wookies seldom are," Ippy said. Kyp looked at him and suppressed a chuckle as his loose photoreceptor swung and clanged against his metal face.

The _Falcon_ took a strong hit on the port side, sending it off course. Kyp saw that the TIE Punisher had returned. He felt himself getting angry, which was not all that uncommon for him. He knew better than to give in to his rage this close to Korriban and he refrained from calling on his Force reserves to choke the life out of the enemy pilot. 

"We need a course out of here!" he announced as he dove to avoid a Corellian Corvette that opened fire. One of his overhead shields went completely out and he could smell the acrid smoke of an electrical fire. "They're eating us up!" he said as he tried to get on a course away from the fleet.

Again the TIE Punisher fired and again the supercharged blast shook the freighter off course. "Hull breech in the lower engineering spaces," Ippy said as he activated the damage control droids. Small, almost rodent-like droids would be dispatched to weld a new plate in place. There was nothing Kyp could do for any organic parts that had been shot off of his ship.

Chewbacca gave a war cry and the laser cannon came to life. Red lines of death crossed empty space to take down first one, then two and finally three TIE Bombers. The slower fighters never had a chance against Chewbacca's good eye. 

"Put on the hood," a voice said in his head, clear as a bell. "Do it, son of Durron."

"Great, you know my name, can you guess my favorite color?" Kyp said out loud. He fired a missile before getting a lock, scattering two X-Wings that had been doing a chicken run on him. "Leave me alone, Palpatine or Freedon Nadd or whoever you are!"

"Are you talking to me?" Ippy asked, his tone indicating that his patience programming was beginning to wear thin.

"No!" Kyp snapped. He yanked hard to port, the _Falcon_ literally screaming past several CloakShape fighters that had to scatter. The young Jedi was flying like a madman, all the while Chewbacca was firing away. More ships were hit, including the corvette that was now behind them, and the Wookie roared in what could only be described as pure delight. 

The TIE Punisher concentrated its fire on the starboard side and an explosion rocked the ship. An alarm started blaring and Kyp's hand moved toward the escape pod ejection button. He pressed it and double-checked the remaining pod. "They blew out the damn thing," he said. By ejecting the destroyed escape device, the ship could be sealed with an emergency field. 

"The hood," the voice called out again.

"Take the damn controls," Kyp told Ippy and the droid happily complied. Suddenly they shot straight up on their Z-axis and began to spin. Kyp grabbed the hood and pulled it down and pulled it over his head. "Alright, I'm here!"

His perceptions immediately focused in on the world that he came to know as the mind of the ship, where the living creature that had bonded with the _Millennium Falcon_ thought, dreamed and imagined. When he was not looking to use the ship's advanced organic senses, he normally found it to be a place of tranquility, made up of varying shades of colors. 

This time his mind's eye met the dark brown orbs of something most definitely human. "Ahhhhh!" Kyp screamed, startled. "What the hell?"

The image suddenly changed in focus and it was as if Kyp had stepped back several meters. Before him stood a man who was most definitely a Jedi; Kyp could tell by his brown and tan robes. His father wore similar robes and Kyp had been taught that most Jedi, in the days of the Old Republic, had worn similar attire. The Jedi was tall, taller than Kyp, with skin almost as dark as his robes. His head was hairless and there was a confident look in his eyes. "Greetings, son of Ferrin Durron, I am Mace Windu, Jedi Master."

"Uh-huh," Kyp stammered. He felt the ship make another sudden turn and then it dived. "Or are you a Sith projection?"

"You should be able to tell," Mace told him, offering no other answer. Kyp dipped into the Force, trying to sense the Dark Side, but it was everywhere in this system. 

"How did you get into my ship?"

"A fair question," the image replied. "The Sith are not the only ones who understand the concept of spirit projection. The Jedi were who originally discovered the ability, but we were loathe to use it because immortality ultimately leads to complacency and madness."

"Uh-huh."

"Your ship, it is amazing how it is a living thing, or I should say was," Mace said with some regret. Kyp felt a lump form in his throat as he realized that the damage that had been done to the _Falcon_ must have been extensive indeed. He had just lost what he considered a close friend. "My spirit did not cross over after my death at the hands of Darth Maul, why, I cannot tell you."

"I need coordinates for the hyperspace jump, or I can just guess," Ippy said. Kyp noted that their progress was less erratic which meant that they were pulling away from the fleet.

"You need to go to Dathomir." Kyp asked why and why he should even believe what could be nothing more that a Sith magic trick. "I already know your thoughts; you project a severe presence in the Force. I will tell you all you need to know; I've spent nearly two decades dealing with the souls of the Sith."

"Coordinates?"

Kyp considered it for a moment and again tried to read the image in the Force. He realized that what he was observing was merely a projection of the mind he was in contact with. Could it really be the famous Mace Windu, a Jedi master that his father had told him tale after tale about? He again attempted to use the Force to guide his decision, but the Dark Side permeated the hyperstrings of matter in this universe and so he was forced to rely on something else: instinct.

When fighting the Yuzheen Vong, there were many times that Kyp could not use the Force. The Vong were dead to it and while he had enjoyed limited success against them, for the most part he had to rely on gut feelings. It was what Corran had used to compensate for his lack of ability in certain areas and it was something that Kyp should have felt more comfortable about using. When he had been a teenager, he no problem going with a hunch.

Now he was older, a young _man_ and he suddenly felt fear. He sucked in a deep breath. "We're going to Dathomir," he told Ippy.

"That is in Imperial territory, sir; perhaps you'd like to make a quick stop by the Imperial Palace for tea while we are at it," the droid responded even as it programmed in the course. "Out of the cooking utensil and into the heart of the sun."

The _Falcon_ lurched forward and then there was the sound of something breaking. Kyp pulled off the hood and jumped out of the pilot's seat. Running back to the engineering section, he saw the problem immediately. "Ippy, the cooling pipe to the hyperdrive has broken; switch to the secondaries."

"Secondaries have been destroyed by enemy fire," Ippy called out.

Chewbacca appeared next to Kyp, almost by magic. The Wookie shoved past him and reached down for the broken pipe. Grabbing with his bionic hands, Chewbacca pulled the two broken pieces together even as boiling fluid poured onto his fur. Kyp had no time for words but instead pushed out a hand and concentrated on the pipe sections. He imagined them heating up, coaxed the molecules to being their dance. The pipe heated up at the very ends and coolant began to flash to steam.

Slowly the pipes started to weld together, Chewbacca crushing them slightly as he pulled them together. The compartment was filling with saturated vapor and Kyp had to resist the urge to cough. After a few moments, the leak was repaired. "Punch it, Ippy!" he cried out.

The _Millennium Falcon_ shot into hyperspace and Chewbacca and Kyp went rolling into the cargo area.


	26. Chapter 21

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 21

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Battle of Mon Calamari started on the day the Death Star entered the system by the same name. Imperial forces, actually mercenary troops hired by Warlord Thrawn in order to further his ruse, immediately scrambled to meet the forward elements of the Confederate fleet. The Death Star itself remained at the very edge of the system, as far away from any gravitational traps as was possible. 

The mercenaries were equipped well enough to battle conventional naval forces. Besides the fifty smaller vessels, ranging from corvettes to _Lancer_-class frigates to the odd dreadnaught, all of which were under droid control, they had several ships of their own. They also had several squadrons of TIE fighters and droid –controlled star fighters. 

Within two hours of the Death Star's arrival in the system, the first shots had been fired as several Confederate star destroyers opened up on the droid vessels. As the Tarkinists expected, the droid ships had not been programmed to react to an attack and one by one they were reduced to space debris by the powerful turbolasers of Admiral Daala's ships. 

The first squadrons of mercenary fighters met the squadrons of the Confederation halfway between the Imperial perimeter and the blue planet. It took less than 15 minutes for the battle to become reduced to utter confusion as mercenary TIE Interceptors engaged wave after wave of Confederate TIE fighters and TIE bombers as star destroyers slowly made their way towards the goal of the planet of Mon Calamari. 

The mercenaries that Thrawn had contracted were all former Imperials and to their credit, they fought for the planet with ferocity and valor. The Confederation ended up losing most of its fighter craft and one star destroyer fell victim to a torpedo attack. The die had been cast before that battle had been joined, though; the mercenaries never had a chance against the crack Tarkinist's forces. 

By the end of the first full day, Tarkinist troops were dropping towards the major cities of the water world. Most floated on the surface and as a demonstration of their power, several star destroyers fired their turbolasers onto the defenseless cities. The few planet-based batteries had been rendered silent by coordinated strikes by bombers that had attacked the power generating plants instead of the weapons themselves. 

Confederate troops landed on the cities that were left to find them completely deserted.

"What?" Daala screamed, smacking a well-manicured hand against the armrest. She was seated, with most of her military advisors, in the war room of the Death Star. It had been here that Tarkin had lived as a god; it was also here that she had watched him slip into madness. "What do you mean there is nobody there?" she asked the hologram that was being projected in the center of the round table they sat at.

The soldier in the hologram put a hand up to his ear and did not answer immediately as he received a report. He nodded to someone and then returned his attention to Daala. "We have checked the entire city, my ladyship," the soldier said. In the background, a stormtrooper ran by. "We have sent out probes to scout the buildings and we have also sent divers underneath. We will begin a house to house search as well within the hour."

"Damn it!" Daala hissed and her advisors jumped. The battle had been far too easy and they had all suspected something was wrong. Several of them had tried to dissuade Daala from having the Death Star approach the planet, but she had not wanted to listen. Instead, she wanted to close the distance and relieve the battle station of the rest of its capital vessels. The shipyards of Mon Calamari were to be used to put her entire fleet back into working order while she busied herself with acclimating the populace with the laws and rules of Daala's empire.

"Moff Daala," a general said, hoping to calm her down. "Undoubtedly the Imperials trained the aliens to flee in the event of an attack. They are creatures of the water and a cowardly lot at that."

She sneered from behind her perfect teeth, her face like that of a feral cat. "The shipyards are unmanned! There is nobody to perform the labor! I don't care how cowardly they are!"

"My lady," an admiral pleaded, "may I strongly suggest that we stop the Death Star from any further approach? We will soon be too close to the planet to engage our hyperdrives." The gravity pull of Mon Calamari would not allow them to make a quick escape if it was necessary and most of the naval officers were not allowing themselves to be lulled into any sort of feeling of security. The second Death Star, the Sith Moon, had been destroyed over Endor and Daala had been in command of that station!

Daala's anger was almost palatable. She knew that something was terribly wrong, but for the life of her, she could not understand what it was. She was in command of the most powerful weapon that the Empire had ever produced! "Very well; order sublight engines to all stop," she ordered. The admiral immediately got on his comlink and relayed her instructions. There was no way to tell that the Death Star had stopped moving except for the lowering of the hum of the giant engines that seemed to always be in the background.

"I want our intelligence people going over very single intercepted transmission from the Empire," she told them. "Something is not right here."

"If I may offer, my Moff," the general started. "It could be possible that we are facing what is left of a broken or deserted garrison." Several of the officers around the table shook their heads and spoke aloud that it was a ridiculous statement. Daala held up a hand and told the general to continue. 

He smiled and stood up, glowing in the glare of angry looks he was getting from his peers. "I submit that maybe this is what is left of the Imperial navy, that everything else we have heard has been propaganda. How long has it been since we have heard from Thrawn? How many engagements have occurred between the New Order and the New Republic that we have not heard about?"

"Are you actually suggesting that somehow the Armed Forces of the New Order have been so decimated that they have to employ droid-controlled vessels to perform perimeter duty?" one of the assembled officers asked, his voice indicating he was near laughter. "I can't believe it."

The standing general pointed at the officer. "Wasn't it you that gave us a briefing not six standard months ago about rumors of major engagements beyond the Outer Rim? Wasn't Thrawn the one who was sent out there?"

Daala nodded. "I suppose it is possible…"

"Or, maybe," a commander voiced, "this is a trap like so many others have suggested. This is too easy!"

Their leader broke out in hysterical laughter. "That would mean Thrawn has _always_ been one step ahead of me. I doubt that alien is capable of such complex thinking," she said. Many around the table joined in her laughter, but some reserved their amusement. 

Suddenly the general quarters alarm sounded, throwing the room into disarray. A voice called over the station's main address system. "We are under attack! Major Imperial fleet has appeared coming out of hyperspace. Grand Moff Daala please report to Battle Control!"

Ten minutes later, Daala marched into a room filled with technicians and officers shouting into comlinks and microphones. Naval troopers were running about, securing hatches and shoving people out of the way. "I want some calm," she ordered and her stormtrooper escort moved out to shut people up. 

She stepped over to the Officer of the Deck and put her hands on her slender thighs. Throwing back her hair she barked for a report. The young officer swallowed hard. "A large fleet under the command of Warlord Thrawn has appeared behind us!"

Daala's grin was wicked and feral. "He must have been hiding; I suppose I may have a spy in my organization," she mumbled. There was no time to deal with that at the moment; besides she had intelligence people to handle that. Of course, she would have to kill the department head for allowing such a breach of secrecy.

"Launch fighters," she ordered. "Then turn the fleet around to engage."

She glanced over at the threat board and immediately was alarmed. "They haven't launched fighters?"

"No, my Moff." 

"It's a trap," she muttered to herself, as if trying to convince her that her previous logic had absolutely been flawed. No, she told herself, there was no way an inferior alien mind could outwit her! Thrawn may have been a tactical genius, but his strength lay in the moment, not in the long term. Daala knew that it was she that was far more superior, starting from the day she had offered herself to Tarkin. From his first ghoulish touch upon her skin she had been planning for her rise to the throne of the galaxy.

No blue-skinned evolutionary mistake was going to ruin that. "Launch all fighters; every squadron. I want everything that can fly out there. Engage and destroy. TIE bombers are to bring down defensive shields while Skipray Blastboats and assault gunboats will destroy the capital vessels!"

"We could capture…" a voice said from the tactical area.

"No!" she screamed. "We wipe them out, now!" She quickly moved over to weapons control. "Can the super-laser be tuned to fire upon star destroyers?" she asked the lead technician

He nodded and stammered out an answer. "Y-yes, my Moff, but it is impractical. It is like swatting a fly with an asteroid." Daala reached out and grabbed the tech by the throat. She was surprisingly strong; her hands were known throughout the Confederacy for inflicting as much pain as they did pleasure. "You son of bantha! Did I ask for your juvenile commentary?"

The tech choked out a "no" and an officer coughed behind Daala. She released the man and turned to regard the other man. "I would also suggest putting in a call to Captain Katarn's expeditionary force. They may not get here in time, but if this does turn into a particularly bloody struggle, we may need the protection of his fleet."

Daala thought about her lover, now sitting in the Sullust system, dictating terms for the handover of power to a military governor. Then she thought about that other, handsome officer, the one she had left in charge of Corellia. Never had she been more happy in her life then when she left that planet and its good-for-nothing, alien-loving population behind. Admiral Rose had been his name; he had warned of a trap.

Then Daala laughed out loud. "No, Commander; leave Captain Katarn where he is with the other forces. Sullust is a ripe plum and at least we know that its shipyards can be up and running soon enough!" She looked around the room and called everyone to attention. "Before all of you wet yourselves or start sending those last holonet messages to loved ones, remember where you are. This is the mightiest weapon ever created; mightier than the Sith Empire of old! There is nothing in the Imperial arsenal that can even put a dent in this battle station." She smiled and chuckled to herself. "It was, after all, Warlord Thrawn, who pointed out all of the weaknesses in the defenses of the Death Star."

On the bridge of _Chimera_, Warlord Thrawn looked out the viewscreen at the planet of Mon Calamari, several million kilometers distant. He could make out the Death Star nest to it, barely, and he would occasionally glance over at the holographic battle map to get a better idea of the way the forces were arranged. Palleon came to stand next to him. "The fleet is deployed per your instructions," he commented.

"Excellent," Thrawn said, giving him a nod. "Right now, Daala will be caught between trying to figure out how this could be a trap and her desire to get revenge on me for springing it. If we were facing Tarkin, he would simply ignore us. He would be confident in the power of the Death Star to repel us."

"He would not be wrong; the Death Star easily outguns us," Palleon pointed out. "You were the one who also corrected the deficiency with the exhaust ports for the reactors, making even a strategic star fighter strike impossible."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed. "Yes, a mistake I am willing to admit to. I underestimated Tarkin's desire for power. I assumed that he would have been content to be the Emperor's lackey. I was wrong. He was the only person in the New Order I could not predict until I started to look at what he was most afraid of."

"I don't understand," Palleon said as he watched several stormtroopers enter the bridge. The ship, like the fleet, was at battle readiness and that meant securing the bridge.

"Tarkin feared anonymity, of fading away into history as nothing more than a footnote to the power and glory that was Palpatine's. It made him arrogant; he grabbed for whatever power he could to make a name for himself. I thought him at first to be a zealot to the cause. Instead, now I realize he was a scared little man. Once he had the Death Star, he became to afraid to use it, afraid that we would take it away from him." Thrawn smiled slightly. "Once he tasted power, he knew he would do anything to hold onto it."

"And Daala?"

"Under the proper stewardship, she could have been a fine commander. In fact, I am hoping that the rational side of her, the calm and cool persona that got her where she is today will be whom I address," the leader of the Imperial forces said. He turned slowly and walked back to a command chair had had mounted on the walkway just above the pit. Like the sailing captains of old, he enjoyed being on the bridge and dictating every action. It was not so much micromanagement as it was a symphony of military power.

"Have you managed to punch through their jamming?" he asked the communications officer.

"Not to the Death Star, sir, but we have picked up transmission coming off of Mon Calamari. Your plan worked perfectly, sir," the officer said with no small amount of joy. Thrawn raised an eyebrow at the exuberance the younger man was showing. Palleon was about to tell the other man to regain his bearings when Thrawn, sensing his friend's concern, held up a finger. 

"Thank you for the encouragement, Lieutenant," the Warlord said. "Continue to monitor and let me know if the general situation changes." The communications officer acknowledged and went back to his duties. Thrawn leaned over and whispered to Palleon. "For the first time since the start of this civil war, our men are excited. I will do nothing to dampen that spirit. Some battles can be won on will alone."

"Against a Death Star?"

Thrawn shrugged, something that Palleon had never seen him do. "Spirit and a _Sun Crusher_."

Less than a standard half hour later, Thrawn's ship managed to punch through the electronic jamming. Using command codes built into the Death Star's computer, his people were able to give him access to the command frequency, voice only. "Grand Moff Daala, greetings and welcome to the Imperial world of Mon Calamari," Thrawn's voice boomed into the war room.

Daala stopped sipping at a cup of caf and turned her head to the speaker in the overhead. "That bastard…"

"No doubt you have discovered that for all intents and purposes, Mon Calamari is a dead world for the Tarkin Confederacy. The population have taken to the depths and to several facilities that the Empire has built and maintained there over the last five years." There was a pause and then a wave of static washed through the air. When it was done, Daala noted that the room was completely quiet.

"The shipyards can be made functional again, but it will require extensive refitting and retooling on your part since most of the machinery and controls have been designed for use by Mon Cals and Aqualish species. As you do not have control of any of the mining colonies in this sector either, and you do not possess the firepower to take them from the Empire, you will find that even the simplest repairs shall be difficult."

"Thrawn! I'll kill you!" Daala called out, but the message was not two-way. She quickly turned to the star fighter operations commander. "Get with our comms department and find out which ship this message is coming from. I want every squadron to descend on it immediately!"

The voice of Thrawn continued. "The fleet you destroyed was a collection of mercenaries and droid vessels, costly, but worthwhile to draw you out here for this confrontation. The battle station you command is the property of the Empire, stolen by a foolish old man. Because of his actions, democracists have subverted the ideals of the New Order, ideals you once swore to uphold. The dreams of Palpatine are dying in this civil war as the Empire and Confederation kill without regard.

"Our mighty star fleet, once able to keep the entire galaxy in line, has been reduced to a few dozen capital ships on either side. We are destroying technology. We are destroying all that we built."

"Cry me a river," Daala commented out loud. Inside, though, she heard the truth in Thrawn's words and it started to bother her.

"That is why I am offering you this single chance to surrender the Death Star to me. In exchange, you will be given a top political posting within the Empire, equivalent to my own, only in the civilian sector. All of your officers and crew will be given full Imperial pardons and will be immediately reintegrated, along with the worlds of the Confederacy, back into the New Order."

Daala saw that some of her men were tempted by the offer and she would have been as well if not for the fact they wanted to take her command away and make her into some sort of puppet for Lord Ravage. She had no doubt that the new Emperor would try to bed her, as all men who were over her had tried in the past. Surrendering would allow her men to live; but Daala never really cared about them. They were tools to be used to build her own personal empire.

"If you do not surrender in one hour, then I will destroy the Death Star."

The communication was then cut and several officers started chuckling and encouraged their subordinates to do the same. Very soon, there was a general laughter throughout the room. One soul ventured to speak his mind out loud. "Look out, Warlord Thrawn is going to tear apart the Death Star all by himself!"

The joke was followed by even more raucous laughter. Daala smiled and finished her caf, taking time to slap a tech on the back and tell him to get the star fighters out in space. A few minutes later she walked out of the war room, a stormtrooper escort with her. Next to her was one of her aides. As they quickly marched through the passageways, Daala was taken aback by how normal everything seemed. People were going about their business as if nothing were happening; at least the civilian population was.

Though the Death Star was a military weapon, it was also a military installation, complete with soldiers and their families. It had parks, shopping malls and schools. It was a very small planet, one in which Daala was a god. "We are not surrendering," she said.

"I never thought we were," her aide said. "However, I would like to suggest that we have your personal craft standing by, just in case."

"Just in case of what?" she asked as they stepped to her personal turbolift. 

The aide waited until they were in the lift and door was closed. "Thrawn, if anyone, would be the one to have access to any sort of weapon that could damage this space station. As improbable as it seems, Thrawn's previous tactics indicate he does not bluff."

Daala thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps he is suicidal."

"Our intelligence reports indicate otherwise," the aide said as the life stopped and opened. They stepped out into the passageway and made their way quickly towards her private apartment. She intended to change into something a bit more menacing; something with a sidearm. The aide continued his reasoning. "We know that Palpatine was obsessed with super weapons. Even though the Maw Installation was destroyed, there may have been other areas we did not know about. "

"Even so," Daala said as she and the aide entered the apartment, leaving the stormtroopers outside. She trusted the man like he was a lover; in fact, he once had been. She stripped out of her uniform as she spoke. "Even so," she repeated, "we know about most of their projects: _Super_-class star destroyers, the _Eye of Palpatine_ and even the so-called World Devastators. None of them are a threat to this station. It is too well armed and armored."

The aide took a moment to glance at her nude body. "Still, it would be a shame if anything happened to you. Thrawn is a real threat." The aide then turned to look at a map on the wall. It showed the galaxy as whole without any boundaries. "It does make you wonder why he pulled us all the way out here instead of going after us at Corellia. It is much closer to Imperial Center."

Daala stopped and held her undershirt in her hand, considering the words. "Maybe he's insane."

"Then he would be twice as dangerous."

She finished getting dressed and went over to a small table. Today she was going to have her hair up and out of the way. She could act sexy at a later date; today she was going to get hot and sweaty giving orders and directing a battle, something she was very good. "You're actually afraid, aren't you?"

"I'd rather face Darth Maul than Thrawn."

"I met Darth Maul; I'd rather face Thrawn," she told him. "Still, if you are so concerned, have a shuttle standing by with a jump course for Sullust," she said. She saw his face darken, as he understood that she was returning to Katarn. Obviously he had assumed since she was flirting with him, she was anxious to rekindle their romance. 

The aide had been a fling, a diversion as she waited for something better to come along. He had maintained the appropriate discretion, though, and had been awarded with promotion. She had even allowed him to marry whom he wanted instead of directing him towards some union that would benefit her.

"As you command, my Moff," he said with a bow. 

Daala dismissed him with a wave and them pulled her comlink out of her breast pocket. She requested star fighter operations. "Yes, ma'am," a voice said from the other end. "We have five squadrons going after a ship identified as the _Chimera_. It is Thrawn's ship. They still have not launched star fighters. I think they believe we won't actually attack."

"Then that will be Thrawn's first and last mistake," Daala said, a slight giddy tremor in her voice.  


	27. Chapter 22

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 22

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darthyoshiyahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"The first mistake," Thrawn said coolly as he observed the massive threat screen. Hundreds of small dots were swarming away from the icons that were marked as being Daala's fleet. Someone announced that fighters were being launched at an accelerated rate and were making their away across the gap of space between the two fleets. Thrawn decided to let some combat patrols out, but just a few, to provide some incentive for the enemy to draw in closer.

Palleon wanted to tell the man to quit stating the obvious, but he instead was more intrigued to glimmer some of Thrawn's insight into the coming battle. "You predicted she would react this way?" he asked.

"As I stated before, I had hoped she would come to her senses and surrender, but it appears the disease that consumed Tarkin's loyalty has also ate away at her reasoning," the blue-skinned warlord said, resignation in his voice. "People will die today for no other reason that pride. They will not be shedding blood for an ideal worth upholding; they will be killed because someone was too proud to admit they were beaten."

Thrawn turned and moved over to the edge of the walkway and stared down into the pit to a lone station, manned by an officer of considerable rank for the task. "Inform our forward elements that they may fire as soon as the star fighters are in range," he ordered.

Several thousand kilometers ahead of the _Chimera_, several star destroyers and _Nebulon-B_ frigates sat silently as the Confederate forces formed up by squadrons and made their approach. Between the two forces there appeared to be nothing more than empty space, vast and cold. The lead fighters ordered their fellows to concentrate their firepower on their target, the flagship, and to avoid even the choicest of alternate targets until Thrawn was dead.

A squadron of TIE Interceptors, one of only a few in the Confederate arsenal, took the lead by punching more power to the twin ion engines. The fighters with the dagger-shaped solar panels raced ahead of the others; ready to deliver the first strike to delivering the galaxy from the traitorous New Order and its new alien-loving policies!

But just as they were getting ready to fan out into their attack patterns to race around the forward elements of Thrawn's fleet, something strange happened. Space seemed to warp and shimmer in front of them, just as a road would in the desert. Alarms began going off in every cockpit as ten _Lancer­_-class anti-star fighter frigates decloaked ahead of the star destroyers.

Some were in front of the TIE fighters; some were behind them. All of them were firing their turbolasers equipped with sophisticated targeting systems that were specifically designed to track small, agile fighters. A slaughter began as the frigates filled the sky with hundreds of shots of coherent light that immediately took out fighter after fighter.

Some of the TIEs managed to break formation and get away and it was obvious that those were the veteran pilots. The quickly moved out of range of the frigates guns and tried to regroup. The newer, greener pilots, under orders to go after Thrawn no matter what, stuck to their orders, their Confederate Academy training still fresh in their heads.

Later military historians would comment on the fallibility of turning out pilots that could not think, of how using the old Imperial training methods developed by Palpatine and Tarkin, instead of the newer ones employed by Thrawn, had cost the Confederation dearly. Young men from all over the Confederacy began to die, first one by one, then by twos and then by tens. A group of TIE bombers managed to torpedo one frigate and ended its threat once and for all, reducing it to fragments of debris and flotsam, but that was the one exception. The nine other frigates sustained some hits, some serious and others not, but they never faltered. Imperial estimates concluded that over 500 TIEs and other craft had been sent on a mission to kill Thrawn. Just over 300 survived the sneak attack by the frigates.

Another fifty or so managed to make it to the forward screen of star destroyers and those ships engaged them as well. Even veteran pilots were finding it difficult to avoid the crisscrossing patterns of fire being put up by Thrawn's forces. A pilot would turn to avoid the repeating fire of an anti-star fighter battery, only to come into range of another. All of it had to do with the positioning of the vessels. There were no gaps; it was as if Thrawn had expected this very response.

"I assaulted her honor, she sees this as a contest between her and I, however ridiculous that notions is," Thrawn lectured as he watched the tally go up as different vessels reported in. He noted with some admiration that one pilot of an assault gunboat had managed to penetrate all of the screens and traps and fire two missiles at his ship. Shields had held, of course, but that he had been able to get so far indicated that Daala was as much a fool as her lover had been. If a pilot like that had been in a missile boat or something more deadly, then some real damage might have been done.

As it was, the gunners on the _Chimera_ ended the brilliant pilot's life right after he had fired. "Commanders do not battle each other, our tactics do. As I said, she has become predictable, her edge is gone. Assuming power does that, it weakens you." Thrawn turned to Palleon and asked his opinion.

"So, it is better to be a powerful ally than to be an impotent leader," the other man surmised.

"Of course; emperors will come and go, but they will always need great leaders. Few people actually try to kill the generals. They want the top prize, never realizing that the key to any leader's success is the ability of his senior military officers. " Thrawn turned back to the threat screen and watched as another _Lancer_ winked out of existence. The senior TIE commanders were now over their initial shock and were concentrating their fire on the frigates. Thrawn ordered that the forward star destroyers launch their fighters and that their escorting frigates move in to screen the _Lancers_. Anti star fighter ships were extremely expensive to build. "The ability to effectively lead the galaxy is dependent upon the war powers of the government. The Old Republic lacked any sort of viable war power, relying too much on the threat of Jedi intervention. Palpatine relied, just as Tarkin had, on super weapons. But the only way to control a galaxy is by defeating your enemies, not crushing your own people."

"And that means turning over some power to the generals and admirals," Palleon concluded.

Thrawn's head bobbed slowly. "Why would I want to be in charge? How much more power would I really have? I, and my senior staff, are the true Empire already, my friend. Now you understand completely why I will never assume the throne. I belong here, not on Imperial Center fighting political battles."

"So better to be the military commander everyone wants on their side instead of the political leader they want dead," Palleon said with a smile.

They were silent for a moment, watching as the battle reports started to come in. Surprisingly, the Confederate pilots were holding up against their AFNO counterparts quite well. One of the _Victory_-class star destroyers was reporting heaving damage and its captain was pulling it out of the fight. It was to no avail, though; the older ship was too slow to avoid the incoming fighters and its hyperdrive was damaged beyond repair. It turned away and slowly tried to get out of the formation.

"Order that ship back into line!" Thrawn commanded. His commanders were under specific instructions to hold their line for as long as possible. When the time was right, he would order a massive withdrawal so he could put the second part of his plan into action.

Yet no plan survived the opening shots of any conflict, he inwardly sighed. The cloaked frigates had worked out well, but the Confederate pilots had recovered far too quickly. The intelligence they had received regarding the status and capability of Daala's forces had indicated that it was full of untested pilots.

The only thing Thrawn could guess was that either she, or possibly her aide, Captain Katarn, had ordered that green squadrons be replaced by veteran ones before the Death Star had moved out of the Corellian system. If that were true, then that simply made another part of his plan easier and this one harder. That was fine as well; all that mattered was that the overall plan was successful.

The order was relayed to the departing vessel, but it was too late. Like a wounded fish being set upon by predators, the star destroyer was assailed by several flights of TIE fighters. He mentally calculated the effect that the missing vessel would have on his overall formation and decided it was within the acceptable loss parameters. The ship finally exploded as several waves of torpedos slammed into it.

For the next twenty minutes the battle had no definite progress. Thrawn and Palleon watched as the numbers kept changing for the number of fighters on each side. There was a certain cut down point, the time in the battle when the losses outweighed the potential benefits of victory. In this battle, there was no cut down. Thrawn would use every fighter he had; throw every support ship and capital class warship at the enemy, as it was imperative that he be victorious.

Right now, he estimated, the Corellian forces of the New Republic had already entered their home system and were in the process of accepting the Imperial surrender of their system. His secret agent, the so-called Admiral Rose, would ensure that Garm Bel Iblis would be satisfied, that he would create a new Corellian System that would not be allied with the Empire or the New Republic. Instead of having to destroy fifteen percent of the Republic fleet, including their best officers, he would simply get them to give up.

With their system in their own hands, the Corellians would divorce themselves of the Republic and create a buffer zone of sorts. The Republic could not wage war against them without looking like imperialists.

With a victory here he would absorb several Confederate systems into the Empire. Certainly some would remain in open rebellion, trying to cling to Tarkin's ridiculous notion of a government ruled entirely through paranoia and fear, but the Empire would be much, much stronger in the end.

Then the Republic would be forced to sue for peace and the New Order would spend ten or fifteen years building up its forces, most likely through contracts with the Corellians. Then Lord Ravage, or Luke Skywalker or whoever would lead the Empire to victory and once again order would rule the galaxy. By that time, perhaps the Empire would be ready to go after the rest of Yuhzeen Vong. Who knew the potential for conquest?

But one thing stood in his way; a planet destroying space station at the hands of a vain and slightly mad woman. "Call the fighters back," he said, indicating the combat patrols that had been sent out previously. He had not sent wave after wave, as his junior commanders had requested. Instead it had been a steady stream of two or four ships; all the while the Confederate forces were engaging capital vessels.

The Tarkinist's seemed to sense retreat and Thrawn supposed it had to do with the lust for battle. A pilot, racing here and there, lasers blasting and missiles flying, would get caught up in a euphoria that simply could not be described. As a young man in the Chiss military he had experienced the same thing; his emotions being one of the things that set him apart from others of his race.

The TIE fighters from the Death Star took further punishment as they flew in close to the star destroyers, trying to hit the combat patrols as they passed the magnetic shielding of the landing bays. It was to no avail. "Report a loss of 17 fighters out of 50mpatrol ships," someone called out.

"I believe your initial analysis called for a 40% loss in fighters as being acceptable," Palleon recalled. "We are below that."

"We lost a star destroyer to the fighters, though," Thrawn reminded him. "I did not expect to lose a capital vessel of that class until we engaged Daala's own equivalent forces." As if it had been a command, the treat board registered movement from several of Daala's star destroyers. Per their instructions, his own moved out to engage them.

Space was ablaze with turbolaser fire as former allies began trying desperately to eradicate each other. Thrawn turned to star fighter control. "Launch the Sun Crusher."

The pilot of the Sun Crusher, a veteran of several hundred individual engagements, pushed his throttle forward and felt the vibrations from the powerful engines underneath him. The cockpit had cleaned up reasonably well considering the damage it had sustained in the battle with the Yuhzeen Vong. Several of the seals had been replaced, as had the viewport window. It was twice as thick now, the result of weeks of intensive labor by the best repair droids in the Empire.

He understood his mission, which was simple enough. Instead of firing one of the special missiles into a sun, he was going to use the fighter as a needle. The Death Star was the balloon.

He could see the battle raging and he slowly made his way through several Confederate fighters that were hightailing it back to protect the capital vessels now engaged in a shooting match. It reminded the pilot of a celebration, with all of the lights and explosions, and he supposed in a strange way it was. This would probably be his last mission; completion was sure to lead to promotion and maybe even a seat on Thrawn's personal advisory board. That meant a much larger retirement and that meant he could retire much earlier.

He had seen nothing but constant warfare for years. That wasn't so bad, he thought as he rammed a Confederate TIE Advanced from the rear. It exploded harmlessly against his quantum armor. He was a warrior and that meant he lived for war, but he always wanted to try his hand at directing it. Having the blood of your enemies on your hands was thrilling, but the true excitement came from moving the pieces around the board. Like Thrawn he smiled.

The TIE Advanced must have been a fluke, probably a commander's vehicle because the rest of the TIE fighters seemed to lose cohesion as a unit. They no longer were fighting as one but instead were going up against individual targets on their own. It was their death sentence.

The pilot did not bother pursuing them, though he was tempted to do some low altitudes runs over the Confederate star destroyers. He could imagine the cries of astonishment from the gun crews as they fired their ion cannons and turbolasers at him at point blank range and doing nothing. He was in control of the most powerful weapon in the galaxy, but he did not hold any lofty goals like Tarkin had. No, the pilot was a little smarter he figured. Tarkin had stolen the Empire's toys and the Empire had sent Thrawn to get it back.

The pilot wondered as he made a course correction if that had been why old Tarkin had gone nuts? It was no secret, the rumors coming out of the Confederacy had told the story over the last few years of the strange behavior of its leader. Having someone like Warlord Thrawn wanting to have your ass was enough to eat at anyone's soul.

He came to the Imperial line and was awed by the array of firepower being displayed. This was perhaps the most explosive battle to have taken place in years and it was an important one. The Death Star could not be allowed to roam free anymore. It had to be stopped.

A turbolaser blast struck the Sun Crusher and the pilot flinched by reflex. He checked his status board and saw that there had been no damage. The Sun Crusher was now in primes condition and it had been Thrawn's secret sabbac card for this battle. The Imperial fleet under the Warlord's control was simply not enough to take down the battle station. It's close-in weapons station would eat up any vessel venturing into its field of fire.

It had been suggested to use small, precision strikes against the Death Star, maybe even deploy Zero-G stormtroopers to board it. If you could gain control of the main bridge…

He shook his head and adjusted the environmental controls. There would be no assault on the Death Star to take control; by not surrendering, the thousands upon thousands of people on it had been sentenced to death by Lord Ravage.

Truly it had become a death star.

"Moff Daala, we are picking up a single Imperial fighter making it's way around the main line, on a course towards us," someone called out.

Daala winced at the battle screen and searched for the unknown fighter. "Class?"

"Unknown. We have tried to get a description from one of the forward vessels but what they are saying is impossible," an officer replied. He moved away from a station after rechecking the data and moved up close to her. In low tones he told her that reports indicated that the fighter had taken a direct hit from a turbolaser.

Her mind raced through the possibilities. What weapon could it be? Then she remembered a minor project at the Maw Installation, a project that was allegedly destroyed. Her personal spy, a man she had graced with her presence in bed, had assured her that it had been turned to dust before the Imperials had landed on the installation.

The Maw Installation had been a personal weapons research facility in the heart of a cluster of black holes. Daala had worked there briefly.

The truth hit her like a ton of bricks and she actually took a step back, as if she had been physically hit. "The Sun Crusher," she mouthed, remembering the prototype she had seen. Suddenly she wanted to surrender.

Instead she moved to action. "I want the main laser fired on that fighter now!"

Technicians ran to their stations, unsure of what to do. They began the start-up sequences and there were cried of protests from the engineering sections. They had been trying to refocus the laser for use against capital class vessels. Daala stomped over to the Chief Engineer's station and cuffed him. The engineer fell out of his seat and she put her lips to the microphone. "You have two damn minutes to give me a laser or we are all dead!" she cried.

The bridge suddenly became quiet and Daala noted that all eyes were on her.

In his official report on the destruction of the Death Star, Warlord Thrawn admitted that despite what should have been impossible, the battle station managed to fire on shot at reduced power with the main laser. The shot, obviously aimed at the Sun Crusher had been poorly lined up and in fact took out two Confederate star destroyers.

Then there was the penetration of the Death Star's outer hull by the Sun Crusher. It slid into the station without a sound. It could not be seen as it happened, but it was tracked using active sensors. Computer simulations showed, from the point of impact, that it had been a perfect shot.

The Sun Crusher had gone through the main reactor and exited the other side. There were no initial explosions, no warning of the destruction that was to engulf the most expensive creation of any government history could recollect. In fact, Thrawn had reported that he had been saddened to see something of such technological beauty having to be taken down.

The Death Star exploded much like Chandrilla had years before, becoming a bright light of debris. In that moment, ultimate victory was achieved for the Empire and his subordinates hailed Warlord Thrawn as the true master of the galaxy. The blue-skinned admiral took it all in stride and immediately set about accepting the surrender of the Confederate troops were willing to. Many vessels, many more than Thrawn had anticipated, had immediately jumped into hyperspace. Most likely they were going to meet up at Sullust.

Perhaps the Confederacy was not dead, but it was mortally wounded and it would leave a blood trail for him to follow.


	28. Chapter 23

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 23

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: 

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"What you just saw was the coming darkness that is going to consume this galaxy," Mace Windu said. His projection was seated very comfortably inside the mind of the _Millennium Falcon_. Kyp said nothing, but instead fell into the role of the dutiful student. Mace Windu was, after all, a famed and powerful Jedi master and it was not so hard to believe that somehow he had managed to cheat death at the hands of Darth Maul.

The dark skinned Jedi was linked to Kyp through his thoughts and he knew all of the younger man's questions, concerns and fears. He decided that the best course of action was to address each on in order. He started with Korriban. "The Force is incredibly strong around the Sith homeworld; it even acts as a repository of Dark Side energy. With so much of the Force there, it was possible to push my conciseness into one of the statues."

"So, they aren't there for show?" Kyp asked, recalling several holos he had browsed through one day. Korriban, the site of the famed battle between the Dark Lords of the Sith and the last of the Jedi Council, had become the subject of several hundred novels and news stories since the start of the Empire.

"No, they actually have a use. My hope was that someday a Jedi of sufficient strength would come by and I could communicate my knowledge to them," Mace replied, his tone even. His relaxing way of speaking put Kyp at ease. "Then I would release my spirit to the Force. However, your ship, which was dying…and I still don't understand that…gave me an alternate route."

Kyp moved to scratch his nose and hit the cognition hood. He had forgotten he was wearing it, but it was the best way to communicate with the Jedi master. "You said there was a threat around Korriban. I saw the Black Fleet," Kyp said, using the name he had given to the armada. "Those are the Sith aren't they? I had a vision of them."

Mace nodded. "Your perceptions in the Force are quite strong. You faced the war fleet of Exar Kunn, one of the most vile and powerful Dark Lords in history. He has allied with him several powerful dark Jedi and he is determined to rule the galaxy. He has spent the last few years consolidating his forces, grabbing up any and all ships he could find."

"So, while the New Republic, the Empire and the Confederacy have been blasting each other to bits, Kunn has been sitting on the outside, waiting for a chance to pounce," Kyp finished. "This is the new threat I sensed."

"Yes, and it is much more of a threat than that posed by Palpatine's clone," Mace revealed. Kyp was shocked. He expressed disbelief, but Mace reassured him that Lord Ravage was indeed a genetic duplicate of the former Emperor. "Palpatine could not sire normal heirs; Bail Organna discovered this. So corrupted by the Dark Side he became, Palpatine's only hope of immortality was to create clones."

Mace went on to explain that many Dark Lords of the Sith transferred their essence into their children's bodies in order to remain alive. Of course, their children were effectively dead because of the actions, but no true Sith ever really worried about that. "Clones suffer from various diseases that natural children do not, so it is no surprise that Lord Ravage is somewhat flawed."

"We should warn the Republic," Kyp said. "They need to know about this threat."

Mace nodded slowly and then seemed to pause for a moment. He smiled as he collected his thoughts. "From what I can tell from your thoughts, the Jedi are not highly regarded in the Republic."

Kyp was forced to agree. "Years of mistrust will not go away for many. Sure, a lot of the alien races look at me like I'm some sort of savior, but that was only because I changed the face of Tatooine. I still don't know how I did it."

The Jedi master knew the answer, but he decided not to tell Kyp that he had received a little help from the spirit of Anakin Skywalker. "Then your message will most likely be ignored. Men have a tendency to want to face the threat in front of them and not prepare for the one behind. The Republic sees the Empire and the Confederacy as their greatest threats and that is what they will concentrate on."

"So, you are saying we should abandon the Republic?" Kyp asked.

"No," Mace was quick to reply. "But this New Republic lacks a common purpose. Through the Force, many things can be learned if you know how to listen. It is no secret that the Corellians and Chandrillans are dissatisfied with the current regime in the Republic. The Mon Cals are not far from succeeding either; their world lies in Imperial space and the Empire, for the last five years, has treated them well."

"It's a lie," Kyp told him. "Ravage is just setting them up for a fall!"

"Perhaps," Mace said with a shrug, "but it does not matter. The New Republic alone cannot stand up to the Black Fleet, nor can the Empire or the Confederacy. Only together can they hope to win."

Kyp shook his head. "Against armies of dark Jedi? We only have five Jedi knights…"

"Four."

"Five," Kyp countered. "Master Vos, my father, me, Leia and Corran." Mace's image seemed to soften and Kyp knew immediately something was wrong. He had felt something coming from Corran when they had exited the Bespin system, but he had not thought anything of it. Corran was the strong one, the experienced one; nothing could hurt him. "Something has happened to Corran," he said, knowing it was true.

"Your apprentice has turned to the Dark Side, though he is not fully immersed in it. Were you not preoccupied with other thoughts, you might have noticed," Mace said. Kyp tried to clear his mind and seek out his friend, but he was unable to push away the scattered and torturous ideas that now sprang into his mind. From his earliest memories of his Jedi training, when his mother had first shown him how to levitate a simple toy, he had been told over and over how important it was for the master to ensure the apprentice did not give into the Dark Side. It was too easy to give in to the baser emotions, to try to justify the ends with the means.

Where children in the "normal" galaxy were taught to fear witches and monsters under the bed, Kyp had been raised to fear failure. There was no greater measure of it then losing your apprentice. He tried to speak, but Mace help up a virtual hand to silence him. "You must not dwell on this right now."

The statement shocked Kyp and he started to speak about the great failure of the Jedi Council three decades before. It was no secret that all of the troubles that the galaxy now faced, from a three front civil war to a general lack of trust between species, was caused by the Jedi Council's complacent attitude towards Anakin Skywalker. Mace spoke of it before Kyp could finish his thoughts.

"It is true; we failed to recognize that maybe it was better to put the extra effort into young Skywalker then to simply write him off as a lost cause." He leaned back and looked into the sky that wasn't there. "Many of us wanted to side with Master Qui-Gin Jinn when he brought the boy to us, but we wanted to trust in Master Yoda even more. He was much older and much wiser then we, but perhaps that was his greatest flaw. He had seen so much, done so much that it may have blinded him to the truth that was before him."

"My father says that the Jedi Council should have been more diversified; not just masters but maybe even some padawans to offer fresh insight into issues," Kyp added. He and his father had spent many nights going over what Ferrin Durron had suspected had been the true downfall of the Jedi.

"Your father was more perceptive than what we gave him credit for. The Jedi should have been more open to suggestion from within the ranks, but again, we deferred to Master Yoda. He was over eight hundred years old at the time Anakin was brought before us; we trusted him and he trusted his own intuition." Mace stood up in the vision. "We must get to Dathomir," he said with finality.

"I have an obligation to my padawan," Kyp reminded him.

"You have a larger obligation to the galaxy," Mace stated flatly.

"What is so important on Dathomir that it allows me to leave my padawan…my friend…to fall to the Dark Side?" Kyp asked, his mind full with questions. He felt the urge to simply pull off the cognition hood and end the conversation. That would allow him the freedom to move on, to go save his padawan and also inform the New Republic of the danger that loomed in the form of the Black Fleet.

But he didn't. You did not simply ignore someone like Mace Windu who in death carried a presence that was more palatable than most people had in life. Talking with the spirit of the Jedi master had opened up Kyp's thoughts, allowing seeing things in a much bigger light. He and his father had come back to the galaxy in order to prepare it for the Yuhzeen Vong, but now he saw that getting ready for a threat in the future prevented your from seeing the threat directly in front of you.

"An army is needed and an army is there," Mace replied.

"An army? There is a clone army of millions with several hundred, if not thousands of dark Jedi, waiting to overwhelm the galaxy," Kyp told him.

"When the purges started, a plan was put into motion that would put certain Jedi in certain places," Mace said. "We knew about the Witches of Dathomir, descendants of a fallen Jedi. We also knew that there were those on that planet that would eventually reject the dark teachings."

"There are Jedi on Dathomir?" Kyp asked, mildly surprised.

"Hopefully. Your brother-in-law Malakie is from that world and his presence in the Force is hard to miss. He is a very angry young man." Mace's image seemed to approach, but it was only illusion. Kyp straightened in his seat despite himself. Communicating in an illusion world was disconcerting and to be honest, it unnerved him slightly. Though he was Jedi, he had learned about other religions from some of the colony members. Not every Jedi gave up their home faiths, including his mother.

Kyp followed the Force as a means of achieving something more in life, but he knew that many species believed that there was an existence beyond death that did not necessarily mean the Force. Some believed in entire worlds where the spirits of the dead would reside. He could not get the idea that he was peering into the land of the dead out of his mind. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting him, except in that brief instant that our minds touched," Kyp told the spirit.

Mace scratched his head. "And what did you feel?"

"Cold rage," Kyp said as he remembered the sensations. "He hates so much, the galaxy, the Jedi, the Empire. He believes his father was betrayed by Palpatine…he sees himself gaining revenge on the entire galaxy for his being alone for so long."

"Through the Force, many of the dead Dark Lords believed that Malakie would be the salvation of the Sith," Mace told him. "There is much pain in the galaxy and it all started with poor Anakin Skywalker. His fury was passed to his son, whom I believe is the prophesized balancer of the Force. Qui-Gon Jinn thought it was Anakin, but it was through Anakin that we received two sides of the Force.

"The duality of the Force is a concept that many Jedi, from padawan to master, have theorized on for centuries. Many believed it to be one side being light, the other being dark. Yet, all Jedi find themselves treading on the dark side from time to time."

"Such as in combat?" Kyp asked. His training had included instruction from several former fallen Jedi who had taught that sometimes dipping into one's anger was necessary to supplement their fighting prowess.

"At times, yes," Mace agreed. "But I think that the balance to the Force is between action and inaction. The Jedi, as I've said several times, were doing nothing to actively combat evil in the Republic. We tried negotiation and because it had been successful in the past, we started to assume that it would always be successful. We were wrong. When it was time for action, the Jedi were slow to rise to the challenge. All of the skill in the universe with a lightsaber is useless when you do not draw the weapon."

Kyp could sense the sadness coming from the Jedi master and he took a moment to ponder the entirety of the Jedi purges and what they truly meant. The Jedi had been caught completely off guard by the appearance of Darth Vader and later Darth Maul and Darth Sideous. They had spent too much time in debate and in council instead of actively seeking the answer to their problems. In fact, Kyp decided as he thought more about it, they probably never even realized that they were being attacked by the Sith.

Kyp's father had often lamented that had the Jedi been more like him, and then maybe the purges would never have happened. Maybe if Yoda or Master Windu had been looking for evil instead of waiting for it, they might have seen through Palpatine's ruse. Maybe that was what Master Windu was talking about? "Luke Skywalker brings about action in the Force," Kyp agreed.

"Yes, and his twin bring about thought. She certainly had you and your padawan thinking quite a bit," the Jedi Master chuckled. "But, in all fairness, she does bring about action herself. I think the Force needs to be actively used, not just passively as we believed. It needs to be tempered through action and then refined with thought."

Kyp nodded, understanding what the Jedi master was trying to teach. It made sense that in order for there to be balance, there had to be equal parts of both. It was a philosophy he would have to seek more guidance on in the future. "I still should go after my padawan," he said.

"I understand how you feel, but again I must remind you that as the last true Jedi Knight, you have an entire order to consider, not just one padawan."

Shaking his head, Kyp disagreed. "Friendship is an important aspect of the new Jedi order; we stick together no matter what. Corran would come after me," Kyp said with pride. He had no doubt that if the situations were reversed, Corran would be flying to his rescue at that very moment.

"But Corran Horn is not a true Jedi yet and you are. Friendship is a wonderful thing, but sometimes duty overrides even the closest bonds." Mace swallowed. "We do not have the time for debate, Kyp Durron. You have to make a decision."

Kyp pulled off the hood and stood up. Ippy turned his mechanical head his way and gave him a glance, but said nothing. He had finally decided that trying to have a conversation with Kyp when he was talking to the "voice in the ship" was pointless and he was spending his time interfacing with the old navigational computer the _Falcon_ had originally came with.

The Vong biological alterations rarely used the nav computer or any of the other three droid brains built into the ship's systems, but now it was imperative that Ippy get them back up and running. One of the brains, the one that handled most of the calculations, was fairly agreeable and since it had gotten some real use now and again, it was open to suggestion.

The other two, however, were a different story. One of them liked to make claims that it was actually sentient while the other brain argued with it about the impossibility of such a state. Ippy counted three thousand and forty three attempts on his part to get them to stop their bickering long enough to for all of them to set a course for Dathomir, since he kept hearing Kyp refer to the world.

The "good" droid brain had relayed some information to Ippy about the world and the "sentient" brain added its own comments in a high and mighty data stream. Dathomir was a jungle world that had originally been settled by a Dark Jedi and her followers. Years later a Jedi training vessel had crashed on the world, bringing the Witches of Dathomir to the attention of the Jedi Council. Despite their best efforts, the Council had been unable to retrieve their shattered vessel from the world, as the Witches had claimed it for their own. Eventually the Jedi chose to ignore the world, despite the fact that not all of the inhabitants of the planet were evil.

Evil, of course, was a sentient concept. There was no good or evil to Ippy, but he found that being around persons like Kyp were beneficial to his goal of extending his life cycle. From what the protocol droid had been able to deduce listening to Kyp over the past few years was that the Jedi somehow represented a philosophy of mutual benefit for all beings, sentient and droid. His logic circuits stressed that aiding Kyp in his endeavors was the correct course of action and he tried to relay that to the ship.

Sentient replied back that he wanted nothing to do with helping out anyone who had tried to mingle a "lower life form" with the rest of the ship. Good argued that because Kyp had added the biologicals to the ship, it had left time for Sentient to concentrate on its own thoughts. Bad, the name Ippy had given the third brain, thought they were all malfunctioning and suggested a thorough degaussing of their memory cores. Ippy made a note to try to find a way to remove Bad.

"Ippy, how much information do we have in the database on Dathomir?" Kyp finally asked, rubbing his face. Ippy's photoreceptors detected that the Jedi's facial hair was unusually long, at least two millimeters in length. The droid relayed what he had already learned and then added some material from his own databanks.

One of the reasons Ippy had been selected to be Kyp's co-pilot was that he had a little knowledge on a lot of Imperial subjects. "Dathomir was originally a prison planet, a place where Emperor Palpatine sent political dissidents. It was guarded by Grand Admiral Zsinj's fleet until several years ago."

"What happened?" Kyp asked.

"The Grand Admiral died suddenly after murdering a lover. Palpatine decided that the Witches of Dathomir must have used their Force abilities to do it and so he ordered the fleet removed. Most of its elements were absorbed into the Tarkin Confederacy." Kyp asked if there were New Order forces in the system. "I do not have information on that but logic indicates there would be at least a border patrol of four or more smaller capital vessels and no more than a squadron of fighters. Nothing you have not tried to handle on your own before," he replied.

Kyp nodded, not rising to the occasion to trade barbs with the droid. Ippy enjoyed his verbal dueling with Kyp and when the Jedi refused to be baited, the droid sensed that something was amiss. He assumed it had to do with Leia and Corran and the droid felt, if that were possible, that there was an emptiness to the ship without them. But there was something else as well; Kyp did not look as radiant as he normally did. There was something very wrong. "Go ahead and set the course," he told the droid.

Chewbacca stuck his head into the cockpit and gave a growl. "The Wookie wants to know where we are going. Do you want to tell him or should I try it with very small words?'

Kyp threw the droid a harsh look and then regarded Chewbacca. "I have to go to Dathomir. Master Windu, the man in the ship's brain, tells me that there are Jedi there we can recruit…"

The Wookie began to gesture and bark, his tone indicating he was not very happy about the course change. Kyp did not need Ippy to translate for him. "I know, we need to go after Malakie. We both have our reasons, Chewbacca, but he's part of something bigger than the two of us. We can't go after him alone," he said, realizing that he really had no choice. He had to abandon his friends in order to save the galaxy and it hurt. Was that how it had been for his father when the time came to leave the galaxy?

"I promise, though…we will go after him," Kyp promised. Then he turned to look out the viewport. "To save my sister, avenge your friend and restore peace to the galaxy."


	29. Chapter 24

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 24

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: 

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2004 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2004 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Fresca knocked on the door to Luke's private chamber attached to their suite and waited until he beckoned her to enter. He stood in the center of the room, stripped to the waste and bathed in sweat. He was indeed a handsome man to behold and it was hard not to be attracted to him. But she knew that he could never love her, not the way she wanted to be loved. Some people would probably find it laughable that members of the Imperial hierarchy were concerned about such things; the common thought was that all that they coveted was power.

For many it was true, even for Fresca. She did want power, she did want to be important and she had naively believed that the path to happiness had lay with Luke Skywalker. The only thing he could offer her was a warm bed with cold feelings.

She concentrated hard to keep her true thoughts hidden. "We have received a direct command from Lord Ravage himself. We are to return to Imperial Center with all possible speed. To quote His Majesty directly, 'tell that damned fool apprentice of mine that my patience is at an end'."

Luke nodded. "I was hoping that Kyp Durron would return to rescue Corran and Leia, but it doesn't look favorable," he acknowledged as he walked over to a small bench and picked up a towel. Though they had been ordered several times to return home, Luke had countermanded the orders by using the excuse that he knew Kyp Durron would eventually show himself. He kept the torture of his sister constant so that she sent waves of pain through the Force, but it was clear that whatever it was that the young Jedi Knight was involved in was more important than his friends.

That concerned Luke slightly. "I suppose that Warlord Thrawn threw his two credits in as well?"

She handed over the flimsy that contained a well-thought out and terse message from the supreme commander of the Imperial forces. There would be political hell to pay when he got back to Imperial Center, but it would be worth it when he presented Corran Horn to his master.

The flotilla was sitting on the very edge of the system, far enough away from the CSA relief forces that there was little chance of any interaction. Damages to the CSA military had already been paid for by Warlord Thrawn, who then ordered that Luke's castle on Imperial Center be seized as collateral on the "loan" the Chiss officer had made to him.

"You are playing a dangerous game, my love," she said, the words nearly choking her. She had to keep up the act, however, as she needed him to believe she was still loyal to him for her plan to work. "We must leave."

"Very well, order the fleet to jump to hyperspace in one hour," he said as he dropped the towel and grabbed her. He reached around and grabbed her buttocks, using the Force to enhance his strength. She gave a squeal and tears from in her eyes and she knew without looking that there would be a horrible bruise. "And I want you to do something very important for me," he said, kissing her. She returned it behind a tear-soaked smile.

"What…whatever you desire, my love," she said as he finally let her go.

"Go execute my sister. She will not turn and I tire of playing with her. She was broken days ago when Corran turned."

Fresca's heart leapt in her chest and Luke seemed to sense it. "Come now, little Fresca, just because I enjoyed my time with my sister doesn't mean you should be jealous," he laughed. She realized what a slip she had just made, but was thankful he was too full of himself to realize what she was happy about.

Again and again she had to fight to keep out of her mind the scenes of depravity she had witnessed as Luke Skywalker violated his sister in every imaginable way. There were simply lines that you did not cross, even in torture; better to just kill the poor bugger than to do the things he had done. Especially when dealing with a blood relative!

She had hoped that would have been his attitude; he did get bored with things very quickly, which is what fueled his sadistic side. In fact, he seemed to almost like to torture himself at times, especially when one thought about the potential pain he would feel for not quickly responding to the Emperor's recall order. Was it possible that he hated life so much that he wanted to die?

It didn't matter right now, or really ever. If she had her way she would be, very shortly, on her was to the New Republic as a defector, bringing along one of their prized Jedi apprentices. Luke was assuming that Fresca wanted to kill a potential romantic rival, as sickening as the thought was. "It will be as you order," she said with a small bow.

"Any other news I should be concerned about?" he asked as they left the room and entered the living area of the suite.

"It is expected that Corellian independence will be announced later today; final withdrawal of our forces from the area is taking place under orders of Warlord Thrawn," she said, looking down at her datapad. "He is expected to be at the festivities under heavy guard."

"So the Mon Calamari operation was a success?" Luke asked. "He really destroyed the Death Star?"

"Yes, but at the cost of planet and its shipyards. Our scientists calculated incorrectly the resultant damage from the explosion of the battle station's main reactor. Efforts have begun to try and clean it up, but there is very little hope in salvaging the world," she commented.

"I bet that put a wrinkle in Thrawn's brow. His perfect little plan had a loose thread and someone pulled it," Luke laughed as he removed his clothing and walked to the refresher. Fresca followed behind, dutifully reading off from the intelligence report while at the same time arranging for her private shuttle to be prepped for launch.

"Indeed; he has ordered the execution of Bevil Lemelisk, the scientist responsible for most of the practical design of the Death Star. It was carried out yesterday," she said with no passion. Lemelisk had been a pig and deserved to die. "Rumor is that he's paying for the work on Mon Calamari himself."

"Idiot," Luke snorted.

"There have also been several more murders on Imperial Center, all attributed to the Killer of Coruscant," she told him and watched as he hung his head down low. She knew that investigating a murder was something he considered beneath him, but she was also of the mind that he considered all but the throne of the Empire below his notice. "The Emperor has sent a personal message as well demanding that more attention be given to that matter."

"That will be another favor you can do for me," He said as he started the sonic shower. He then dismissed her with a wave, little realizing he would never see her again in such a capacity.

Leia walked slowly down the corridor; every step was pure pain and agony, but she did her best to hold herself up high. Though the medical facilities onboard a star destroyer were first-rate, she had not been given anything but rudimentary care since being transferred from Cloud City. Every day was a new torture where the only respite had been brief sleep followed by the bathing she received at the hands of whomever her brother decided to send.

Some of her captors were relatively kind and tried to comfort her. Others saw a chance to achieve some personal glory by humiliating a princess. She was forced to do things that would have destroyed the soul of lesser people, but Leia Organa was a Jedi and she would not be broken.

Her heart was heavy, weighted down with the truth of her existence, with the knowledge that she was the twin to the most evil and despicable man in the universe. What horrors would be unleashed upon the galaxy if Luke Skywalker ever achieved the throne of the Empire? That thought, along with the knowledge that she would have to stop him, kept her going.

She was saddened as well by the loss of Corran, the sweet young man who had only tried to be a good man to her. She should have let him down from the beginning, but she had not been able to. Every time she wanted to break it off, to just be friends, he would look at her with his sad eyes and her heart would melt. Now she saw the folly of her unspoken words and she wondered what sort of price the galaxy would pay for her cowardice?

Ahead of her was the shapely frame of Fresca, her brother's lover and right hand, walking as if she were hurt in the buttocks. Instead of anger towards the woman, Leia felt only pity and she drew strength upon that. The Jedi teachings that had seemed to drone on and on forever were finally making sense. No matter how bad her situation was Leia realized that the woman in front of her had it worse. At the very least, Leia expected to be executed if she could not figure a way out of her situation; but poor Fresca had to remain in Luke's company constantly. What a horrid fate.

With some effort, Leia threw out a tendril in the Force and latched onto Fresca, trying to determine what sort of woman it was that could love her brother. The level of mental barrier she encountered shocked her; Fresca was deliberately keeping her thoughts to herself and that got Leia wondering. Did she know something that she was afraid Leia would find out, or was she protecting herself from Luke's dark influence? No doubt he probed her mind as well, just as he had with Leia's.

Luke's control over the Force was frightening and Leia promised herself that as soon as she figured out a way to rescue herself, she would find Kyp and beg him to treat her like a serious student. She would apologize for setting him and Corran against each other and for leading him on as well. She understood now that the Jedi represented the first and final defense against true evil in the galaxy and that meant a serious commitment.

Suddenly her mind was filled with realization. All of the stories she had heard about the Jedi of the Old Republic and their rigid ways finally made sense. They needed to be disciplined in order to perform their functions. Their only flaw had been that they became so rigid they were unable to grow with the changing galaxy and so they had not seen the new threat the Sith had presented in the form of Palpatine.

A stormtrooper hit her in the back with the butt of his rifle and told her to keep walking. She accepted the prod without even a grunt, but instead focused on Fresca. She detected something was different about her.

They entered the hanger bay that held mostly shuttles and troops transports, Fresca leading the precession up to a pair of _Lambda-_class craft. The stormtroopers fanned out to surround them and Fresca turned to regard her prisoner. "Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, you have been found guilty of treason against the Empire for your actions as an agent for the New Republic, an unlawful body in open rebellion against the rightful rulers of the galaxy. How do you answer these charges?"

Leia brought her head up and stuck out a bruised chin. "Guilty."

"You have also been charged with being a member of the Jedi order, a crime punishable by immediate execution. How do you plead to this charge?" Leia answered again that she was guilty and silently awaited pronouncement of her sentence. She held no illusions, but had to admit to some confusion. Somehow she knew that not everything that was going on was as it was supposed to be.

Fresca drew her blaster and pointed it Leia. Without another word, she pulled the trigger and shot the former princess in the chest. Leia collapsed onto the deck. Fresca holstered the weapon and then looked to the stormtroopers. "Two of you drag her onto my shuttle; I'm to dump the body into space so the Jedi have no martyr." She then produced a flimsy and extended it to the stormtrooper officer in charge. "Take this to Lord Skywalker immediately."

Leia's eyes opened and she felt pain in her chest, but not as bad as she had thought. A bacta patch was sitting on her bare bosom and she looked about to see she was inside a shuttle cabin. A medical droid of the newer Two-One-Dee series, more humanoid than older models, was also tending to other wounds on her body as well.

Fresca stepped into the passenger area from the cockpit. She no longer wore her sidearm and there was a tired look to her eyes. "We just jumped to lightspeed. We are heading for the Corellian System and from there to Tatooine."

"Why?" Leia asked weakly.

"I wish to defect; I've seen the error of my ways," the younger woman admitted. "I offer my services to you, the Jedi and the New Republic, what's left of it."

Leia didn't understand and Fresca quickly filled her in on the Correllian defection and the defeat of the Death Star over Mon Calamari. "The universe is changing very quickly and it may not be for the better. I only know that after everything I have seen and done that following Luke Skywalker into the Abyss is not my idea of a fulfilling life and career."

"My brother…"

"Is probably ready to order the entire fleet after us, but he won't be able to. He's pushed both Lord Ravage and Warlord Thrawn to the brink. He has no choice but to return home and face his punishment for his actions, but he will be back." Fresca sat down in one of the empty seats and watched as the droid put stitches into a large cut on Leia's thigh. "You look very much like your mother," she commented.

Leia was surprised. "You know my mother?"

"My own was Darth Deceptra's aid for many years; I used to think your mother was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, as did most of the Empire. They did not want to see the ugliness that was in her heart, a horridness that she has passed on to her son." Fresca turned away.  "I wanted to stop him, keep him from doing what he did to you. It was wrong, but I was so weak, I couldn't do anything."

A single tear rolled down Leia's face. It was all she would allow for now. "We were both unprepared for him. He has spent a lifetime preparing himself to take absolute control of the galaxy, and a good portion of the last few years perfecting his torture skills. He's a madman on a mission to destroy everything that offends him. I never took the Sith seriously; I made the same mistake as the Jedi of old."

"And you will rectify that now?" Fresca asked.

Leia nodded and then probed her with the Force. There were no barriers now and she felt that the other woman was telling the truth. "As soon as I can find Kyp. We have to save Corran and Dash as well."

Fresca remembered the dark-haired Jedi Knight and recalled thinking how good-looking he had been. "Perhaps I can help you find him after you have recuperated?" Fresca asked.

"I think New Republic Intelligence will want to hide you some place for about a year," Leia chuckled.

"Afterwards, then?"

Leia took another look at her. "You want to meet the famous Kyp Durron, eh?" Then she looked down at her chest. "Good shot; didn't even scorch the better parts."

"If you had tried to move, you would be dead. As it is, you will need a few days in a bacta tank," Fresca told her as she stood up. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to change out of this uniform and wash the dye out of my hair. It's time I started being myself for once."

Luke kneeled on the small circular platform and several lights came to life around him. A holographic projection of the Emperor appeared before him. "What is thy bidding, my master?" he asked.

"I sense great anger coming from you my apprentice," Lord Ravage's image said in a ghostly voice. "You would do well to worry about my anger."

"I meant no offense to you or Warlord Thrawn, my master, but I was engaged in matters of the Sith," Luke replied, still looking at the floor. "I assumed, incorrectly, that you would want me to pursue that instead of attending some administrative duties on Imperial Center."

"Do not play games with me, apprentice," Lord Ravage snapped. "You pursue your own course of action and it has nothing to do with the Sith. You have been too consumed by personal matters to realize there is a great disturbance in the Force."

"I have felt nothing…"

"Silence! Fool, boy! Of course you have not; the power of the Dark Side is stretched far too thin, as I warned you!" The Emperor's eyes flared with apparent madness. "You must find out the source of this drain!"

"But the Jedi…

"I said silence!" Lord Ravage bellowed and Luke actually felt a cold hand grip his throat. The Dark Side may have been waning, but it was far from dead. "Take your new apprentice and go the world of Korriban…without your fleet…"

Luke's head popped up. "But master, without my fleet…"

"You will have to rely on your skills which is all you should need. You will travel under an assumed name and change your appearance. Whoever is behind this is powerful, powerful enough to silence the voices of the ancient Dark Lords." The image flickered slightly. "Have your fleet return to Imperial Center where it will be used guard the Imperial capital."

Luke's hands balled into fists; the idea of being sent anywhere without his command infuriated him, but he allowed the fires to die down. In a way, he welcomed the chance to slip out from under the radar of his master; it would allow him to also pursue his revenge against his sister and former lover, Fresca. That she betrayed him showed her courage, but he was not in the mood to show mercy to anyone. Both of them had to die.

"I will obey or die, my master," Luke finally said.

"That, young Skywalker, is the first intelligent thing you have said in this entire conversation."


	30. Chapter 25

Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 25

By: Christopher W. Blaine

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DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2004 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2004 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The former mansion of Grand Moff Tarkin on Corellia, a building that the owner never occupied, was the center of attention as dignitaries from around the galaxy gathered to usher in a new era of galactic power. Species from worlds of every government, Imperial, Republic, Hapan and many others mingled under the watchful eye of Baron Fel's CorSec officers. No outlandish behavior, no insults or derogatory statements would be tolerated on this special day.

"I have to say," Xizor said as he sipped from his wine glass, "that you managed to outwit all of us," he said in toast to his companion. Warlord Thrawn accepted the compliment without comment and instead nursed his own glass as the Falleen continued. "You reduced the Confederacy to nothing more than a dictatorship over Sullust and managed to cost the New Republic a fifth of her offensive forces."

"Which I understand that you have begun filling quite nicely with newer members of the Republic," Thrawn replied. "Within a month or so, the border flare-ups will die down, sides will be chosen…systems will change hands, but at least there will be defined borders."

"For the most part," Xizor agreed. "Though there will be some trouble spots."

"If it is more than your Republic can handle, then please do not hesitate to contact me," Thrawn joked. A human officer, his uniform indicating he was a lower admiral, stepped up. "Ah, Admiral Palleon, allow me to introduce General Xizor of New Republic Intelligence."

"A pleasure," Palleon said and Xizor noted that there was genuine appreciation in his voice. No doubt this was someone who enjoyed a worthy adversary, or perhaps he simply was a nice person. A nice person in the Imperial Navy? That was a laughable thought indeed.

They made small talk but Xizor's mind was on too many other things to pay too much attention to the mundane details. Thrawn's defeat of Daala and the turn over of the Corellian System to Garm Bel Iblis had completely altered perceptions throughout the galaxy. It was true that borders were even now changing as many joined the Empire out of fear, while others ran to the New Republic for safety. The loss of the Corellians and the Chandrillans had been bad enough, but the Mon Cals were also leaving, one ship at a time, to return to their world, which remained an Imperial protectorate.

Thrawn's plan had been perfect with the exception of a few wrinkles. One of them had been Luke Skywalker. His actions nearly caused the Corporate Sector Authority to declare war on the Empire at a critical juncture. Only Thrawn's considerable political clout and seemingly never-ending purse kept the CSA from plunging the galaxy into all-out war. Even now it was said that the CSA was fighting several rebellions on their worlds, rumor stating that Thrawn's victory over the Death Star had convinced many that "might makes right".

The Confederacy was dead, reduced to only one world, Sullust, which was guarded by a large fleet under the command of Moff Katarn, Daala's former lover and aide. Already agents from many interstellar governments were courting him, hoping to get his fleet onto their side. The balance of power had shifted dramatically; the Empire now had a fleet that rivaled the CSA while the New Republic was scrounging to find anything space worthy that could fight.

Imperial forces were lined up on the New Republic borders, awaiting the call to charge into battle and there was really nothing that could be done about it. The New Republic was short on capital class vessels, especially with the Mon Cals defecting to the New Order. Xizor's spies had been searching for possible "graveyards" of Imperial vessels (all of the New Republic ones had been raided), but they had found nothing. It appeared that Thrawn was most likely putting together an armada to stab at the heart of the New Republic, Tatooine.

Then there was the Jedi problem.

"Quite a coup for you, Xizor," Thrawn said, changing the subject, "snatching up Fresca Isaard like that," the Warlord politely said.

"A fair trade; you received one of our Jedi," Xizor countered.

"But what would you rather have at your side in a battle? A dark Jedi or a failed intelligence officer?" Thrawn chuckled. "I will gladly always accept a trade like that."

"Is it true Bel Iblis again offered you a position in his government?" Xizor asked.

Palleon paled at the thought, but Thrawn paid him no mind. "Yes, but I have also received an offer from the Hapans which is much more promising." He then turned to Palleon. "Don't worry, Admiral, I will always remain true to the Empire."

The human did seem to take the news to heart and a smile crossed his face. "I understand that Baron Fel is pushing for the Corellian Parliament to put an arrest warrant out for Padme Amidala," he offered up as a way to change the subject. The other two nodded and spoke at length about the legalities involved. Xizor leaned in. "I would have thought that Luke Skywalker would have demanded that the Corellians stay away from his mother; after all they are ­your ally."

There was a pause and Thrawn finished his drink and then set it down on an empty table. "I wish I could say that the Corellians were our allies, but that small portion of my plan did not work out as I had hoped. " He turned to Palleon and whispered something to him. The admiral nodded, excused himself and then hurried away. "I underestimated the desire of the humans to have their independence."

"Yes, well this galaxy has always been plagued by the human problem," Xizor commented with disgust. The statement caught Thrawn off guard, a rare occurrence if there ever was one. He politely pressured Xizor to elaborate. The Falleen only smiled. "I'm merely pointing out that maybe the galaxy needs to change a little more. Humans have always dominated, ever since their primate ancestors stepped out of the primordial soup."

Thrawn said nothing but instead listened, hearing the words that were not being said. Xizor had always been crafty; one did not become the head of a criminal organization like Black Sun without being so. He was a being always on the lookout for the next best thing, which explained his sudden defection to the New Republic. The Empire was prepared to bring Black Sun to heel, so Xizor joined the enemy and in the process integrated his criminal network into the Republic Intelligence directive.

Regis Organa was easily discounted; he was the consummate politician who had, though his inaction over the last several years, allowed Thrawn's plan to succeed. There was no doubt that the new Republic senate, made up of mostly alien species, would not hesitate to remove him from power and replace him with someone more to their tastes.

Someone like Xizor.

Thrawn allowed a small smile to cross his face. There could be no doubt that the Falleen prince had hoped for some sort of situation to arise that would discredit Regis and here Thrawn had handed it right to him. Certainly it was a chaotic situation, but if Xizor played his sabbac hand correctly, he could find himself in a very interesting position.

The two adversaries regarded each other for a few more moments. "I suppose I should get back to my delegation," Xizor said. He nodded his head over to several Wookie security agents. "My chaperones wouldn't want me to defect."

"I could always use a new cabin boy," Thrawn said in one of his rare jokes. Xizor laughed, more out of how odd it was to hear the Chiss warlord make the jest than the actual joke itself. With a final nod towards his foe, Xizor turned and made his way back to the other New Republic delegates. Very soon it was expected that Garm Bel Iblis would give a speech in which he would outline the political leanings of the new Corellian government.

Xizor had expected to see the Empire get a very important ally, but he could also see the beauty of having a buffer zone between the New Order and the Republic. It freed up forces and also provided a neutral area where some disputes could be mediated without conflict. The Empire might be ready to attack the New Republic, but it may not be ready to hold it. That required massive amounts of manpower that perhaps the New Order did not possess.

What everyone saw as a tactical victory could be nothing more than a way to stall for time. The possibilities were endless and to Xizor that was really the most beautiful part of Thrawn's plan: he had no idea what to expect. Silently he applauded the warlord and acknowledged that in this great battle, he had truly proven himself the master.

Dengar sat down next to the CorSec agent that had stood in the way of his perfect vantage point and listened as the last sounds of life escaped from the man's lungs. It was unfortunate, but necessary that he eliminate the sentry so that he could complete his mission. Despite the changes that had occurred on the planet over the last few weeks, nothing had altered the course of action the bounty hunter was supposed to take.

The first part of his mission had been rendered moot as soon as the Death Star had left the system. There was no need to find an officer and compel him to grant access to any New Republic agents. In fact, as soon as the battle station had left for its demise, all of Dengar's Republic contacts had left the planet. The ease by which they had managed to escape should have tipped the bounty hunter off that something was going on with Admiral Rose, but he had been to preoccupied with other things to worry about it.

Dengar, a Corellian, had to admit that even though his emotional responses were almost nil, he had felt something when it was announced that the government was changing hands. Maybe it was pride or excitement, and then again it could have been hate and revulsion. There was no way he could no, no way he could tell and he doubted he would ever experience the sensation again in order to study it further.

He opened the metallic case he had brought with him and set about assembling his sniper rifle. It was a special weapon, designed using a gas cylinder that produced a beam with no light in the visible spectrum. He could fire it all day long and nobody would know; only the end result would tell the story.

Down below him the ceremonies were beginning to start. It was odd, being up high above some of the most powerful persons in the galaxy. Imperial warlords and admirals sat across from their New Republic counterparts. Corporate Sector board members with their mercenary merchants worked the crowds, trying to drum up business from the Hapans and Dracmarians. Even some of the members of the small, yet wealthy Trading Guilds were in attendance, no doubt hoping to underwrite some of the repairs needed to the shipyards of Corellia.

What many people did not notice, Dengar thought to himself as he put the scope in place, was that there were some important groups not in attendance. The Drall and Selonians, species that dominated some of the other worlds of the Corellian System, had been completely wiped out by the Tarkinist's. Yet nobody cried out for them, which made Dengar realize that the faces within the government changed, but the underlying principles did not. He had no particular love for any of the extinct species, but he found it ironic that "freedom for Corellia" seemed to only mean for the humans.

His weapon assembled, Dengar took one last look around and then checked his slave control for his getaway speeder bike. Everything was in readiness. It was time to complete the second part of his mission.

Eliminate the leader of Corellia, so long as they were not representing the New Republic.

Garm Bel Iblis cleared his throat and turned to regard Wedge and Soontir, his closest aides and now his closest friends. Fel was now in charge of many agencies that were being stewed together into a single entity called the Intelligence, Security and Special Operations Directorate, or ISSOD. Through him law and order would be restored to the planet and to the shipyards above.

Wedge, on the other hand, was now Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces; the Corellian answer to Warlord Thrawn. It was a demanding position, but the starfighter pilot seemed up for the job. There would also be other postings as well, including a vice-president that had been sworn in, but not announced. Thracken Sal-Solo belonged to an older family with some less than scrupulous origins, but he was a conservative like Bel Iblis and he had also been on planet throughout the entire occupation. He had the respect of the common people and that was what he needed right now in this administration.

"Today marks a new beginning for not only Corellia and her sister planets, but hopefully the entire galaxy as well. We acknowledge the aid of many interplanetary governments in bringing our people to this point, but it is the people that must forge on from here. Corellia will not be beholden to any government, but we will work to be friends, allies and trade partners with anyone who is willing to extend the hand of friendship."

There was a brief round of applause, especially from the Trading Guilds and the Corporate Sector Authority. They welcomed any chance to make a few more credits. When the clapping died down, he continued. "For too many years, our galaxy has been ravaged by civil war. The reasons for the war now seem pointless, but the suffering they have caused is not. Too many of our friends and family have died in the name of ideals we can no longer remember. That is why I am hoping that we can forget the past and look only to the future. I know that there animosities among us that go back centuries, but I am hopeful, especially after seeing the generosity of Lord Ravage and Warlord Thrawn that…"

The pause seemed very out of place, but social niceties prevented anyone from saying anything for several moments. Many thought that Bel Iblis had lost his place or was collecting his thoughts and the shocked look on his face was almost comical. Then he started to fall over, a burning wound in his temple delivering the message that the president was dead.

End


End file.
